🏐 "𝑺𝒀𝑳𝑼𝑺 𝑸𝑰𝑵," ◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ nsfw sylus loves lazy sunday morning sex ꗃ .. smut mdni ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ mina says reupload from toruzip ⁀ ˳ ⟡
He looked so ethereal... naked, cuddled up beside you, his face half covered by the large pillow.
You would have looked away long ago, but you felt so... needy, when you had awoken this morning. The familiar slick beginning to dribble out of your puffy folds, your thighs pressing together. You didn't want to be greedy, but your husband looked so perfect, you couldn't help but imagine how he'd take you right now.
Your thoughts were momentarily cut short when Sylus blinked his tired, red eyes awake. The piercing gaze softening when he saw you first thing in the morning. A lazy smile spreading over his lips as he shifted to quickly pull you closer, yawning while doing so.
"Kitten, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you had a kink for watching me sleep."
You only grumbled and pouted at his words, about to retort... before that familiar throb reminded you why you wanted him awake in the first place. Needy and wet, you cuddled up against his chest. Rubbing your pussy on his thigh, letting him feel how you throbbed, how you needed him to take care of you. His teasing demeanour soon shifted the moment he felt your slick on his muscular thigh. His cock twitched under the blanket, hiss arms tightening around you.
"Oh, so you do have a kink for watching me sleep, huh?"
"...Sylus."
"What?" he huffed softly, teasing you a bit as his hands shifted to grab your hips, and pull you closer him. Grabbing your high and hitching it above his hip. His touch was warm, if not how filthily he was rolling his hips, grinding his hardening cock right on your wet, throbbing pussy. "It's not like I'm wrong... you're already so wet, drooling all over my dick."
You blushed a little at his crude words but couldn't deny them. "Do you not wanna...?"
He shook his head, yawning against your hair before pulling you closer and beginning to roll his hips. “Oh, I wanna,” he drawled on his words with a lazy smirk. The thick head of his cock catching at your entrance with every roll, making your thighs quiver with every catch. You bit down on your plump bottom lip, trying to quieten any whimpers.
“Don’t hide them… let me hear how much this pussy missed my dick from the last time we had sex,” he chuckled softly against your hair, before pressing a gentle kiss on your head. His hands rubbing soothing circles on your thighs.
“The last time being… how long ago kitten?” You grumbled at his playful question. “Oh. Right. Just last night.”
His breath became unsteady when he began to roll his hips more purposefully now, and fully slotted the head of his cock against your puffy little entrance. You whined, digging your nails into his shoulders. He only cooed and shushed you in response, slowly pushing inside.
You felt your eyes roll a little when he popped the first few inches inside. His thickness stretching you out again. You never seemed to get used to just how big and girthy he was, no matter how many times you both had made love.
“..S-sylus…” you moaned softly, clinging onto him with greater intensity when he began to slowly thrust the full length of his member inside.
“Shhh.. just take it…” he mumbled softly against your hair, rubbing circles into your back when he hugged you closer again, your thighs fully spread for him. He looooooved the frontal spooning position. It came second only to the lotus position… oh, he was already twitching inside you from wanting to try the lotus position next. He’d have to wait though, you needed a little pick-me-up first.
Sylus began to huff into your hair, slowly thrusting his cock in and out of your wet pussy. You tightened around him so much with every roll. The blunt head of his length pressing against your cervix gently, but just enough to make you gasp a little into his chest.
When you got close to an orgasm, Sylus only sped up his thrusts. Cooing into your hair and whispering soft confessions of love, his own eyes clenched closed from holding back. “…c-coming…” you drawled against his chest, drooling down your chin a little when your pussy spasamed and you finally felt the release you had been needing. Finally felt so full and warm with Sylus inside you.
Sylus held you close for a few minutes, just slowly rolling his hips against yours, keeping his still-hard dick inside you. Before pressing a soft kiss to your messy bed head and asking
“Do you wanna try the lotus position now, kitten?”
I don't play Genshin anymore (sold my whale account last May 2023) so I don't have the Fontaine characters. But if I had my whale account, I would've c6ed Wrio, lol
When Sylus asked to be free use, you were just a little nervous. The leader of Onychinus, the literal dragon wants you to just use him whenever you see fit!?
It starts off with you kneeling and sucking him as he's sitting at his desk, earning his desperate breathy moans that alone could make you cum. You figure you'll suck him whenever you want, and that's any time you have more than five minutes alone.
Yet Sylus wants more.
"Kitten," he practically purrs those damn words, brushing your hair back. "When I said free use I meant for you to use me."
You flushed, burying your face against his chest and earning his deep chuckle. "Like... fuck you when I want?"
"That," he tilts your chin up as you both lay in his bed, velvet red covers slipping across your skin. His ruby eyes light up just a bit, lips quirking at the corners. "But also I want you to use me, my face too. Even when I'm asleep I assure you I'll cater to anything you need."
"Just randomly ask for... Sylus that's so..." he quirks a brow and then chuckles again.
"You're cute," he taps your nose. "Just try it next time you're wet."
How do you just... sit on his face at random!? Sylus loves to please so its not like you're ever trying for it, but as if to taunt you into his plan he leaves for work for a week. Then comes back too tired, kissing and hugging you instead.
You can't do it can you? He's asked but...
You eye his handsome face in the darkness of the room, his texts even were begging you to use him. You tremble when you slide your panties down, baring you aside from one of Sylus' huge shirts, kneeling and brushing his lips.
You straddle his hips, pressing kisses across his jaw. He moans softly, gripping the sheets underneath him, lips parting as if he's ready to drink you then and there.
'Use me.'
You straddle his face, holding yourself up by that black leather headboard, his breath alone makes your sensitive clit jolt. He practically inhales you in his slumber, making you stop down just a bit. His nose bumps your clit and it twitches in response, his lips against your entrance.
Just drippin' down him, gliding your slick tentatively against his mouth, and that's when his tongue darts out. Languid with a little flick, yawning almost against your pretty pussy. He moans, his huge hands dimpling the flesh on your thighs and dragging you closer then.
"Mnh!" You see his sleepy red eyes open, pulling up and flushing furiously. "Sylus you said to - and I'm so wet but is this-"
"Sit on my face sweetie," his sleepy voice demands, tongue lapping out. "This is what I wanna wake up to."
You're lost, gliding your slick cunt up and down his face, letting him fucking devour you. Messy suction on your puffy lips, his tongue scooping out all the wetness your cunt is just gushing now. Sleepy sighs mix with filthy moans and your sloppy wetness.
"Sylus! Nghhh!" You're so close, core tightening as you chase your release. Sylus' cock is leaking pre, aching to be inside you, dying as you drown his face in all of your honeyed arousal.
He has been begging you to use him and finally you are, he can't help but relish in it. flicking his tongue right on your tiny clit, feeling you squirt lightly all over him. He tries to catch it all but it drips down his chin, his throat, even his chest. Your legs tremble when he yanks off his blanket and slips down his boxers.
"Use my cock now," he orders, swiping some of that slick and grinning as you're trembling. You let him position you, grabbing his thick veiny cock at the base and easing yourself down on him. "Fuck, that's it, slutty kitten couldn't help herself hmm? Had to squirt all over me?"
"Y-yes," Sylus drags you down his cock and stuffs you so full you're about to cum again from the pressure, aftershocks fluttering around his cock. He moans, lifting your shirt to watch how your tummy bulges with him.
"Ride me, use me dont be shy," his words are dominant and submissive, they way he orders you around but wants you to take over. You brace your hands on his bare chest, feeling the heat of his skin under your fingers, chasing your release. "That's it. Good girl."
Fuck.
You're gliding up and down his cock, his hands slipping under that big shirt, gripping your tits and thumbing those nipples, pushing you over the edge. His husky moans and heavy breaths mingle with your whines and staccato ones, until you're rolling your hips and feeling him pulse.
"Go on," he draws out the words, long lashes lowering as he watches where your greedy cunt is swallowing him. "Milk me dry, you're so needy for all that cum hmm?"
"Take over please," you whisper, so sensitive when you're cummin' again that you're just a mess, slick drowning his cock, heavy balls, even his thighs with your frantic spurts. "Too m-much."
He tugs you against him. "Aw, tapping out already?"
You glare all cute.
Fuck he loves you.
"Hold on for the ride then," you cling to him and he flattens his feet on the mattress, pounding up into your messy hole over and over. You scream out, his lips swallow it, plush underneath yours, until he fills you all the way up, hot white ropes just flooding your walls.
"Oh my g-god..." You're trembling, perspiration making your brow damp as he plants soothing kisses. You're quivering as he moans hoarsely, pumping even more cum deep in you.
Sylus sighs in pleasure as your cunt milks him for all of it, gummy walls clenching like a vise. "You used me then made me do the work?"
"Mmph. I tried!" He laughs, the sound melting you. Brushing your messy hair back with long fingers he eases out of you with a messy wet squelch, eyeing your trembling thighs before flipping you on your back. "Ah, Sylus what are..."
He's shoving your thighs up high, tongue lapping the messy white that's pooling from your cunt, making you jerk. He grins up at you. Ruby eyes dilated until they're so bright they almost hurt to look into.
[fem reader x Sylus/ boss & secretary/ smut, bit of a slow burn] *mention of alcoholic beverage being tampered with, but reader is not harmed*
You heard the rumors, the stories, horrific ones at that. How harsh and cruel he was, his employees never lasting more than six months. But it didn’t scare you, in fact, you were up for the challenge—craving change, yearning for new scenery. The job listing haunted the N109 Zone’s career website like a ghost, frequently reappearing to claim a new victim. You clicked the link confidently, attaching a photo and resume before hitting ‘submit’. Now you’d wait.
The notorious Onychinus leader grimaced at the sound of a new email notification. “Who could it be this time?,” he sighed, lazily reading over your name and email address. He had to admit, you were much more experienced than every other applicant. His crimson eyes lingered on your professionally taken head shot, ‘pretty little thing’ he thought to himself. You were an assistant for almost everyone who mattered in this chaotic city. From news anchors, celebrities and protocore dealers, you had your paws on a little bit of everything. Sylus was intrigued to say the least.
Only a few days passed before you received an offer to interview. He even took the time to reply himself, not use some automated system with a non-human response. ‘Arrive at Onychinus Base at 10 AM. Tallest building in the N109. Can’t miss it. -S. Qin’
Short, direct—maybe even a little cold, but all you could think about was what you’d wear. This was just your first victory. That job was yours.
You stood in front of your open closet, eyes sweeping over cardigans and blazers, skirts and slacks. You had options, too many as a matter of fact—but what in your wardrobe screamed ‘I’m the best choice, the only choice’? Being bold was your best bet, so you reached for a matching red skirt and blazer set. You wore it one other time and it was in the dressing room of the gaudy boutique you bought it from. The kind of store that smelled heavily of perfume and the attendants served champagne—hoping you’d get drunk enough to drain your entire bank account. It was perfect.
When the day of your interview arrived, you were already up before your alarm. Sitting in front your vanity, you swept eyeshadow evenly over both eyelids, framing them with a sharp winged liner. You kept your lips subtle, soft nude gloss–just enough to draw attention to your mouth. A new pair of nylons slid up your tanned legs, pencil skirt hugging just right. A satin blouse hid under your blazer, cut low enough to bare just a hint of skin.
The Onychinus building towered over the city, looking like a dark cut of obsidian. You blew out a quick breath before stepping through a pair of sliding glass doors. The lobby played quiet music, jazz and classical. You arrived ten minutes early, eagerly watching the minutes pass until it was 9:59. Like clockwork, a pair of large doors with gold knobs swung open.
A tall figure stood in the doorway, voice deep as he called your name, face expressionless. He was handsome and broad, hair a crisp silver–staring down at you with sharp, sanguine eyes. You rose promptly and joined him in his office, extending a hand to introduce yourself. “Good morning, Mr. Qin.” His handshake was brief, but you took note of his strength; he wasn’t just someone who always sat in an office all day. He definitely dealt his own deals fists first. “Let’s begin, I have a meeting shortly after,” he murmured, sitting behind a large, mahogany desk.
Everything in the room was dark. Gothic style furniture, shades of red and black with the occasional hint of gold—curtains blocking out the sun. In the corner of the room a record player hummed a song different than what circulated in the lobby. “Your resume is rather impressive,” Sylus began, looking over a pair of thin, frameless glasses, definitely designer. “What made you choose to apply for this position?”
You adjusted your posture and cleared your throat, “just looking to go in a different direction. I can only schedule grooming appointments for a celebrity’s childhood cat for so long, you know?,” your voice was playful, almost a purr as you spoke. The man before you quirked an eyebrow, a smirk almost pulling at his lips.
“And you think you’re suited for what Onychinus has to offer?”
“More than, suited, sir. Destined.”
Sylus scoffed, flipping through the many pages of your resume. “I see. Well, it does appear that you’ve worked for some rougher candidates. Protocore dealers aren’t exactly…great employers.”
You nodded, crossing one leg over the other, catching his gaze flicker to the red bottoms on your feet, “Is anyone truly great in this city?”
“I like challenges, Mr. Qin. This isn’t my first rodeo. Just a new bull for me to ride.”
Sylus let himself grin at that, organizing loose papers into a pile on his desk.
“You’re confident, I respect that.”
“Thank you—.”
“However…this isn’t a ‘rodeo’. It’s life and death, billions of dollars at stake, work stained with blood. Does that deter you in any way?”
There was a slight pause, just enough for one breath, “not at all, as long as the paychecks cover the cost of removing blood stains from my clothes.” You shifted in your seat again, sitting in a more relaxed position like you owned the place. Sylus’s ruddy eyes dragged over you from head to toe, his expression revealed nothing as he stood and walked around to the front of his desk. He handed you a folder and spoke flatly, “these are your tasks. Study them thoroughly.”
That was it, no ‘congratulations’, no ‘welcome on board’. You still thanked him regardless, already curious of what was to come.
“I can arrange for my men to give you a ride home,” Sylus offered. “Oh, that won’t be necessary. I drove myself.” His eyebrow twitched again, lips slightly parted in disbelief, but he had to maintain authority for now. “I see…”
“I like taking matters into my own hands, Mr. Qin, hope you don’t mind,” you replied, almost too smooth, but he didn’t seem bothered. In fact, he was impressed by how the interview went. You didn’t squirm, didn’t stutter, he wasn’t even sure if you blinked. “Be back tomorrow at the same time and we’ll go over your schedule and pay,” Sylus instructed before sending you out. With his back to the doors, he listened as your heels beat against the marble floors. With a few clicks the job listing was deleted, hopefully for the last time.
You threw yourself down on the bed with a sigh. You did it, nailed, it actually. That was the shortest interview you’d ever had. Maybe it was because Sylus just wanted it over with or that he actually respected people’s time. In any case, the job was yours and you’d fight before letting it get ripped from your hands.
He gave you a black folder embossed with a simple logo and Onychinus’ name. Its contents included an offer letter and a list of daily tasks. Answer phone calls, book meetings, RSVP galas and auctions—simple enough, you thought. Then, your eyes fixed on a line of italicized text accompanied by an asterisk: *attendance to auctions with Mr. Qin may be required in some instances, wardrobe must be appropriate given the type of event.
The idea of attending an upscale gala here and there made your skin buzz with excitement. You were always curious about what happened behind the scenes when it came to protocore deals and weapon trades, now it seemed you had an in, and with Sylus no less.
He thought about that interview for the rest of his day, sitting through meetings as if he didn’t know how they’d go, what the men on the other line would say and how he’d answer. He was a calculated man, direct and prepared. Until you strutted into his office like it was yours, looking like sin, voice of a siren. Sylus shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. How could someone like him become so distracted by something so trivial?
“Mr. Sylus?,” a man’s voice crackled over the other line of the phone. “Yes, just…follow through with the plan discussed. That shouldn’t be difficult, correct?,” his voice clipped, authoritative. “O-of course, sir.” “Then stop wasting my time.” “Understood…” The line went dead, leaving the empty drone on the receiver. With a sigh, Sylus locked his cell and switched it to silent. Time. Something he cherished, wasted away by incompetence, repetitive questions from those who claimed themselves worthy to work beneath him.
Then there was you, a silver-tongued, curvaceous danger that was probably a better shot than most well-trained snipers. He hoped you’d live up to your word, because he wasn’t quite ready for you to be out of his clutches just yet.
10:00 AM. Sitting in the same lobby, you waited, anticipated—wearing a black pantsuit fit for an attorney, a good one too. As you stared down at the marble floor, a pair of leather dress shoes came into view. You looked up, meeting Sylus’s uninterested gaze. “Come,” he said, “there’s much to go over.” You trailed behind him, watching his swift, silent stride through the halls of Onychinus. He never looked back to see if you were still there as he spoke, just waited for the click of your heels against the floor.
“This is your office, if there’s anything that you need in addition, do not hesitate to reach out to me directly.” The space was huge, every piece of mid century furniture brand new. Unlike Sylus’s office, the curtains were open, cream colored and sheer. It’s like he knew your tastes before you had even landed the job. “Can I leave the door open while I work? I prefer a little air,” you asked, running a finger across your desk. Sylus nodded, then turned his back in invitation for you to follow.
Each room came with a brief description, if you were allowed in it, where things were placed and stored. Towards the end of the tour, there was a private stairwell he didn’t bother mentioning, “where does that lead?” His pace came to a halt, looking over his shoulder, you could just barely see the sharp lines of his profile. “My penthouse. Off limits.” Oh. Work and home seemed to be closer than you thought, all consuming, just a flight of stairs away. But for a man like him, with his position in the company, it made sense.
He escorted you back to your office, leaving the door cracked open to allow the draft in, a minor detail—but he remembered. “Thanks for the tour, sir,” you called out. Sylus turned, his voice still flat, but gaze a bit warmer, “of course. I’m just a few doors away if you need anything.” You reached for the files already beginning to stack high from the last secretary’s failings. “I think I’ll be alright. Just start with these?,” you asked. “Yes. There’s quite some overlap between them, don’t bother losing too much breath on your first day.” A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, challenge number one—accepted.
While, yes, your first real task was laborious, you had everything organized and digitally imputed after a few hours. ‘Filed and uploaded. Let me know if there are any necessary corrections.’ Sylus read over the company chat, one eyebrow raised, the hint of a smirk on his lips. He opened the attachment, reviewing for any mistakes, but to his surprise everything was in its right place. Every appointment, meeting, business deal and auction were in alphabetical order—admittedly he was stunned. “Finally, someone competent,” he murmured to himself.
Measured footsteps echoed off the floor as Sylus approached your office. He gave a light tap against the door with the back of his hand. “Mr. Qin, everything alright?,” you asked. He stepped in, same look of indifference carving his handsome features, “yes, your level of organization is…exceptional.” “If you’re not busy, would you accompany me for lunch?” His gaze was directly on you now, as if the only answer to give was ‘yes’. “Oh-of course, I’m not busy at all,” you murmured, standing up to smooth the creases from your pants.
You waited in front of the Onychinus building, suddenly hearing the rumble of an engine. Sylus pulled up in a red, vintage car, “hop in.” He looked less stiff, maybe even carefree sitting in the driver’s seat. As soon as your seatbelt clicked into place, the car gave a strong lurch as it pulled off. The N109 flashed by the window in shades of grey and black, you leaned against the door with your chin resting on your palm—almost looking at the gloomy city with admiration. Sure it was dangerous, rough, its citizens were not always the friendliest, but you couldn’t see yourself anywhere else.
After at least a half hour, the car pulled in to an ancient looking diner. Its exterior chipped and faded, the fluorescent ‘open’ sign flickering with what life it had left. You never would have imagined Sylus eating at a place like this. After a while, white table cloths, polished silverware and crystal chandeliers get boring—overdone. Sylus enjoyed simplicity, not having to perform or pretend. Sitting across from each other in a booth, you read over the menus slid across the table by your waitress that looked like she couldn’t wait for her shift to end. He ordered a lunch special and black coffee, crimson eyes peering over the menu curious to see what you’d choose.
Patty melt, fries extra crispy and a side of ranch–with a lemon water for, you know ‘balance’. “I wasn’t expecting your meal to feature that much grease,” Sylus quipped. You gave a breathy laugh, “listen, I don’t workout 3 days a week to live off salads. Girls gotta eat, y’know?” It was faint, but you saw him smile, just a small crack across his lips. He nodded, adding a pour of cream to his coffee stirring it absently. “May I ask what exactly you do?” “Depends on the classes my gym has for the day, really. But I’m fond of boxing,” you replied. There was a sudden flicker to Sylus’s eyes, a common interest he wasn’t expecting—especially not from some new-hire secretary.
“Is that so? I happen to have a boxing ring in my private gym,” his voice seemed lighter now, piqued with interest. “Maybe we could spar sometime—or wait, that might be inappropriate,” you stuttered. Sylus gave a small chuckle, the sound was rich in your ears, “you’re fine. Maybe I’ll learn something from you, Kitten.” Wow, a laugh and a pet name, in one sitting. Admittedly, you weren’t used to feeling so flustered. Men made passes at you left and right, but they weren’t Sylus–not even close. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t mind learning from you,” you replied, sipping from your cup. His throat bobbed watching your lips wrap around the edge of the frosted glass, a minuscule gesture that seemed to stir his thoughts.
Thankfully your food arrived before his mind could wander any further. That is, until he saw the way your jaw unhinged, teeth sinking into the huge sandwich between your greasy fingers. And it was the best bite of food you’d eaten in a long time, something this good could only exist in such a hole-in-the-wall place. A moment passed before you realized your eyes fluttered closed as you chewed. “Are you enjoying yourself?,” Sylus mused. “I am, actually. It’s not every day you have lunch with the leader of Onychinus.” Maybe that was because he never extended the invitation to anyone else.
There was no pretending with you, no act to put on for the sake of impressing him. Denial of who you were was nonexistent and Sylus had a tendency of surrounding himself by those who were sure of themselves. He didn’t need worship or groveling, just equity and respect. You stepped into his office and life with footsteps so strong they echoed off the walls, their sound imbedded in his bones.
Sylus suddenly cleared his throat, “I know this may be asking too much and on such short notice, but if you’re willing, I’d like you to attend an event with me next week. It’s a standard gem auction, but there is a piece I’ve had my eyes on for a while now—shouldn’t be in attendance for more than a few hours.” He looked at you with expectant eyes, you chewed a bit slower, the cogs turning in your head. “I mean, I’ll admit I’ve always been curious about what happens behind the scenes…,” you started, giving a brief pause. “If you’re not comfortable I can—,”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just…what exactly do I wear to something like that?”
Sylus’s mouth twisted as he suppressed a laugh, of course that was the only thing you worried about. Not danger, not conflict, but your question wasn’t just about vanity—you cared how you’d look by his side and he took note of that.
“Something…formal, but that won’t draw too much attention,” he replied, knowing full well that a dress wouldn’t be the issue. Your looks alone were a distraction, especially to those who lacked discipline or self control—both of which he was plentiful in.
“Hmm, I think I can handle that.”
“We’ll discuss more as the auction gets closer,” he added, waving the waitress over for the bill. You watched the pen scratch across the receipt. Sylus was a generous tipper, enough for the entire restaurant staff to take at least a month off. Maybe that waitress could finally get the break she deserved.
He walked you back to your office, leaving you to whatever tasks you had left. It was clear there wasn’t a need to hover or babysit. There was enough to keep you occupied for the next few hours, to the point where you didn’t realize the sun had dipped below the horizon. Just as you finished, Sylus appeared in your doorway.
“It’s well past the end of your shift,” he said, stepping inside, taking a few strides to the floor length windows. “Oh—it’s no issue, I was just finishing up.” He drew the sheer curtains shut before turning to face you. The faint light in the room softened his features and he almost looked…ethereal. “I appreciate your efforts, however…,” he walked to the edge of your desk, “rest is just as important.” You sat with his statement for a moment, unsure of where the rumors of cruelty and harshness came from. “There will always be work to be done in a place like this. You’ve proven to me today that you can handle it.”
Sylus pushed your laptop closed and turned to walk away, “come, I’ll walk you to your car.” The city murmured with ambient sounds, lit by flickering street lamps. Your car was the last one left in the lot, waiting under a halo of light, “here I am.” He opened your door and watched as you slid into the driver’s seat, “send a message…so I know you made it back safely.”
“Sure.” The car came to life, humming quietly. Sylus watched you pull off and disappear into the night, looking over his shoulder one last time before returning inside.
As he laid in bed, Sylus waited. Waited to see your name come across his phone screen, hoping you’d remember to text him. It wasn’t long before your message went through, “made it back. Thanks again for lunch, today.” The words weren’t much, but they were yours. He felt strange, suddenly caring so much about your wellbeing. Sylus wasn’t cruel, or heartless–no, but something uneasy in him stirred at the idea of you being harmed. He dismissed the thought, thumbs hovering over the keys in response, “good. See you in the morning.”
The coffees you carried in both hands wafted through the halls. Sylus’s door was cracked just enough to poked the toe of your high heel through and pry it open. You placed the cup on his desk, “good morning.” His red eyes flickered up over his glasses, “you brought me coffee?” He spoke with such disbelief, you didn’t think it was anything more than a small gesture. “Would you prefer a scotch next time?,” you asked, half serious-half teasing.
“No. Thank you. I appreciate that I was a thought in your head is all.” Sylus brought the to-go cup to his lips, they curled around the lid and his shoulders seemed to soften from the warmth. “I added a splash cream, figured that’s how you liked it,” you said. It was perfect, not too bitter or sweet and by the looks of his dark circles, he needed the caffeine.
“I’ve got a lot to catch up on still, see you around lunch?”
He nodded watching you turn to leave. The scent of your perfume wafted over him, it was gourmand and sugary–edible. His fist curled against the desk, eyes closed tight, he felt like a sheep with its throat caught in the jowls of a wolf. For the first time a thread was being pulled from his tightly wound composure.
You sat in your office, reviewing where Sylus had to be for the next few months. There was no way the man slept with how overwhelming his schedule was. Then you thought about the look he gave you earlier that morning. Shock, disbelief—over a plain cup of coffee no less. Had no one in his life ever showed him kindness? Respect, of course, came with the title—but in hopes of a reward, never genuine. This man gave you a job off of simple words, fed you on the first shift and told you not to overwork–he at least deserved the acknowledgment. A company chat window popped up on your laptop’s screen: ‘black.’ it said, a message from Sylus. You replied with a few question marks, thinking it was sent by accident. A second message followed: ‘for the auction, wear something black.’
Right, how could you forget such a prestigious invitation? There were endless dresses stowed away in your closet from previous parties and red carpet events, but for this you wanted something new and untouched.
Returning to the same boutique, nothing changed, not the drowning scent of perfume or endless offerings of champagne—to which you actually accepted this time. You twirled in gown after gown in front of the floor length mirrors, there were at least three that caught your eye. But did they give ‘gem auction with the leader of Onychinus’? No. Not until you clawed through several racks of current fashion trends. When your hand finally landed on ‘the one’ your lips curled into a smug grin. The price tag didn’t matter, but the high slit up the thigh did. Every sales rep overbearingly complemented how it hung off your body, pushing shoes and jewelry into your hands in hopes of an upsell.
Luckily you made it out with one bag, but as you left the boutique, a familiar flash of silver hair stopped you in your tracks. Sylus stood in the men’s department, face like stone as the store’s tailor took his measurements. You found yourself staring as the measuring tape stretched across his wide shoulders, then wrapped around his narrow waist—getting a peak of his abdomen from a slight lift of his shirt. Then, as if sensing your presence, Sylus’s eyes darted toward you through the reflection of the mirror in front of him. There was a slight grin on his heart-shaped lips as he watched you walk away.
After browsing through the rest of the mall, you returned to your car, only to see that same towering man leaning against it. He was dressed in full leather, helmet hanging off his fingers, looking… quite delicious, actually. “didn’t want to say hello, Kitten?,” he chided. “Just wasn’t trying to interrupt and ruin your precious measurements,” you retorted playfully, eyeing him up and down. Sylus scoffed, “how thoughtful of you.” Holding up your shopping bag, you spoke with a drawled purr, “but don’t you worry, I found something in black.”
For once, you accepted a ride from the Onychinus leader—mostly because Sylus kept a low profile when attending auctions. A blacked out SUV idled outside your apartment. He stood at the rear passenger door, trying to look unassuming, though he was anticipating your presence. Then you appeared, skin glowing, jewelry glimmering blindingly and your dress made Sylus’s breath catch—almost choking as he swallowed it down. It hugged every curve that your pantsuits never exposed, dipped just enough to suggest the curve of your spine and swell of cleavage—the slit along your thigh made his heart pound wildly.
“Evening, Bossman,” you greeted. At first Sylus could only blink, his gaze still fixed on the goddess before him. “Evening,” he finally replied, strained like his lungs were tight in your grasp.
He opened the car door, assisting you inside with a simple lift of his forearm that kept you balanced. Sylus slid in beside you, his head almost scraping the ceiling from his height, cologne wafting throughout the small space. There was a beat of silence before he spoke, “you look…lovely,” his tone matter of fact, but with a hint of awe behind it. You let your gaze drag over him. He was also in black, a red dress shirt peaking from his blazer and a ruby brooch clinging to the lapel.
“You are quite a sight, yourself, sir.”
Sylus cleared his throat, adjusting his posture in the leather seat. You smiled watching him, seeming to stir from your compliment alone. “Thank you. Looking the part is just a portion of the job, I suppose.”
“Am I too distracting?,” you quipped.
“Incredibly so.” His throat bobbed with a rough swallow and admittedly it made your ego swell.
He took on a more serious demeanor as you approached a large, harrowing event hall. “Tonight’s objective is simple, I plan to bid highest on the gemstone during the auction. It’s a rare piece, Jadeite, supposedly mined from a unmapped protofield. Once I get my hands on it, we’re in the clear.”
You nodded, “and…what exactly do I do?”
Sylus’s eyes dragged over you, contemplative and almost protective in a way. “You’re free to socialize if you so choose, but…stay within my line of sight.”
The SUV came to a stop, Sylus offered his elbow for you to hold as he escorted you inside. His head dipped, voice low in your ear, “I know you can handle rich folk, but the kind of company kept here isn’t always welcoming.”
“Right,” you murmured, holding his sleeve a little tighter.
He tucked your hair behind your ear, placing a discreet microphone inside.
“Just hold your finger here and call for me. I’ll find you.”
The banquet hall was grand, high ceilings, marble floors, crystal chandeliers glistening bright. Hundreds of people filled the room, dressed to the nines, sipping on expensive liquor. It looked like any other red carpet party you attended in the past, but the armed guards standing at each doorway confirmed that one wrong move could mean a downpour of bullets and bloodshed.
You and Sylus had parted ways at the entrance to the auction room, gazes lingering before he gestured to his ear, reminding you he was just a call away.
One drink couldn’t hurt as you waited for him to finish business. A formally dressed bartender greeted you warmly as you approached, “how may I serve you, Miss?” You opted for a glass of red wine, enough to calm your nerves but not too much to bring on a buzz. The bartender wore a strange look, lips curling into a dark grin, “excellent taste. Enjoy.”
The liquid was warm and bitter, leaving a slight burn on the way down. You found yourself wandering through the crowd, politely refusing dance offers, complimenting other women’s gowns. Your wine glass eventually emptied, leaving your lips lightly stained with the last sip. A sudden wave of nausea crawled over you, dizziness making your stride sloppy. Something was wrong, one glass of wine shouldn’t have made you this drunk.
There was no way you could have known the bartender worked for an enemy organization, one that had been trying to rid Sylus from the N109 zone for years. The leader watched as you entered the gala, arms hooked, knowing you were someone who mattered to the silver haired man. It was a cruel and disgusting act, drugging your drink, but it would keep Sylus distracted and give them an opening to strike when he was at his lowest.
Your limbs started feeling heavy, numb—vision spotty as the room started to spin. Fortunately, the ladies room was within reach and you pushed your way inside, locking yourself away in a stall.
“S-Sy…Sylus—,” you choked over the earpiece, voice slurred and fraying.
“Where are you? What’s wrong?,” he replied with urgency in his tone.
When an answer didn’t come, he acted fast. Pushing his way through crowds of people, heart beating hard behind his ribs. For the first time he felt a wash of panic, eyes sweeping every edge to find you. Then regret settled in, how could he let you get too far away? Why did he bring you here at all?
Your head swayed back and forth before resting against the tiled wall, hands clinging on to rim of the toilet. You felt helpless, stupid and most of all, sick to your stomach. Before you lost consciousness, you heard a deep, familiar voice echo through the room.
“Kitten, I’m here. Call out to me,” Sylus said, frantically pushing open every stall until he reached yours.
His arms wrapped around you, lifting your face over the bowl. He pried his fingers into your mouth, “come on…come on..” when both digits hit the back of your throat, you wretched. It was violent and raw, a mixture of bile and wine burning its way up your esophagus.
“I’ve got you…I’ve got you,” he soothed, holding back your hair as the vomit came in waves. Tears stung your eyes, causing your mascara to run. You clung onto him, fingers digging into his blazer. When his face finally came into view, clear of whose arms you were in, you held even tighter.
“Sylus…d-don’t understand. On-only had one drink…,” your voice was fried, words slurring still.
“You were targeted. Drugged.” He was livid, you could feel it in the tremble of his body. His thumb swept under your eyes, attempting to clean up the mess of smudged make up. “I’m s-sorry—,”
“No. This isn’t your fault.”
Your body lurched forward again, relieving itself of any remaining sickness. The taste in your mouth was putrid and sour, it made your face twist with discomfort.
“I will handle the people that did this, I promise you that,” Sylus growled, smoothing your sweat damped hair.
He brought his hand to the earpiece, calling two names you’d never heard until now. “Luke, Kieran. Get her home and do not contact me again until she’s safe.”
“Don’t leave me…,” you pleaded, curling into his frame, tears streaming down your cheeks. Sylus winced at the sound of your voice, but it only added fuel to the rage boiling within him.
The supposed twins appeared not too long after his command, donning matching crow masks, holding your body upright. Your legs regained just enough strength to get back to the SUV before you succumbed to exhaustion.
Sylus approached the bar with an unsettlingly calm demeanor, receiving the same crooked grin from the bartender. “Evening sir, how may I serve y—,” the man’s words were cut short as he began to choke, clawing at coils of black-red mist wrapped around his neck.
“Should I make this quick? No. That would be too easy,” he drawled, watching the bartender squirm in his grasp. “What a cheap, disgusting attempt. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? How insulting.”
At this point, Sylus didn’t care about the attention he was drawing as he pulled the man apart. He watched his skin tear from the strength of his evol. It made the man’s bones crack and twist, the gurgle of blood and spit in his throat filled the room.
“Let this be a reminder to anyone who wants to take something precious from me, again. Your memory, the very likeness of your being will be nothing but a pile of flesh scraped off the bottom of my shoe.”
Armed guards rushed forward, haphazardly spraying bullets, missing Sylus with every shot before he dissolved into a dark mist.
Your surroundings had changed drastically, feeling the cushion of a soft mattress beneath you rather than a cold bathroom floor. The room was unrecognizable, large and dimly lit. With wobbly arms, you pushed yourself up, trying to remember the events of the night. Dressed in the same gown, the film of make up still caked on your face. Only thing missing were your shoes—found tossed to the floor.
“You’re awake,” a soft voice said, blended with the sound of an opening door. Your head swiveled as you searched for it, for him.
“S-Sylus…?”
The mattress dipped beside you, fingers smoothing over your cheek. “I’m here. You’re safe now,” he spoke with a gentle authority as he urged you to lay down. He was disheveled, knuckles bruised, a streak of blood swiped across his jaw. “Your face…,” you gasped, reaching out to touch him. “It isn’t my blood,” he assured, wiping the stain on his sleeve.
“Oh…what, what did you do?”
A deep exhale blew from his nose, fists curling in, “I handled it.”
As the two of you sat in silence, you watched Sylus’s ribs expand with every breath. He still wasn’t calm—cursing himself internally for the outcome. “I shouldn’t have brought you,” he whispered, barely able to look at your tear stained face.
“I wandered off…you said to—“
“It doesn’t matter, I’m aware of the scum that attends such events…and I let them harm someone I wasn’t expecting to care so much about.”
You weren’t sure how to respond, but the air in the room felt thicker and a lump began to form in your throat. Sylus recoiled as you inched closer, as if disgusted with himself. “Sylus…“
“If you wish to quit, I would understand. You’d be paid out for your entire contract. Just…rest for now.”
Ignoring his words, you took his wrist and pulled him closer. His body towered over you, arms framing either side of your head. “I don’t want to quit,” you said, “I just…just want to shower and wash my face, please.” Sylus didn’t speak, just nodded before disappearing into the guest bathroom.
The sound of running water filled the room, steam billowing from the door. He stood at the edge of the bed with a hand outstretched, “can you walk on your own?” Looking down at your legs, you winced wiggling each toe, lifting both limbs and letting them fall. “I think so.”
Sylus hummed, leaning down and wrapping an arm around your waist. He guided you slowly, sitting you on the tub’s edge. “Are you able to…undress yourself?,” he murmured, back turned to allow for privacy. A small, unsure sound came from your throat, “mm—the zipper, on the back of my dress. Can you undo it for me?” His breath hitched, followed by a low groan.
“I trust you.”
His gaze was pointed toward the ground, slowly lifting to meet your eyes. You smiled, it was weak, yet genuine— striking Sylus in the chest. “Very well…” You turned, moving your hair over one shoulder to reveal the zipper that ran along the length of your spine. His hands were warm, one braced against your shoulder while the other pulled down. Sylus swallowed hard at the sight of your bare skin, it looked incredibly soft and the closeness of your bodies made it easy to smell the remnants of your perfume.
“There,” he said, voice slightly raw, “take as long as you need.”
Then the warmth of his presence disappeared, footsteps falling quietly down the hallway. Relief washed over you the second the hot stream of water poured down your frame. You wanted to scrub away everything you felt that night, except for the lingering feeling of Sylus’s hands, his breath on the back of your neck. ‘Someone I wasn’t expecting to care so much about’. The words replayed over and over, burrowing into every crease of your brain. What changed between your lunch at that diner and now? Because, in such a brief amount of time, you cared deeply about him too.
Sylus wasn’t there when you returned to the bedroom, wrapped in a soft towel, hair still damp. But a neatly folded pair of pajamas were left on the bed. They were warm, the fabric was thick and luxurious. You dug your phone out of the small purse you brought to the auction, pulling up his contact.
‘Coma back’, you typed, hitting send without hesitation.
A knock filled the room, “are you decent?,” Sylus asked, his voice a gentle hum through the door.
“Yes.”
His broad frame appeared in the doorway before he slowly padded to the bed. That familiar weight made the mattress dip beside you, just his presence alone had you feeling more grounded.
“How are you feeling?,” he asked.
“Better now.”
Sylus hummed, pulling back the blankets and tucking them around your legs, “I apologize for what happened at the auction. Trust me when I say it won’t happen again.” His hand rested on your covered knee, squeezing as if to punctuate his promise. You layered your hand over his much larger one, smoothing over the purple bruises on his knuckles. “Sylus. If you weren’t there, things would have ended much worse. Please don’t scorn yourself anymore.”
“It’s just…,” he trailed off, words lost as he looked into your eyes. “Something keeps telling me to protect you. A voice, intuition…I’m not sure. But my body aches with adrenaline whenever you’re near. I’m not used to it.”
It was quiet for a beat, your mind swam with his confession, stomach uneasy from remnants of sickness—or perhaps butterflies.
“I’m not used to taking care of people.”
“Well, I’d feel better if you stayed…even if it’s until I fall asleep,” you said.
Sylus stood, walking to the other side of the bed, toeing off his shoes before easing beside you. Instinctively, you curled into him, nuzzling against his chest. His breath hitched, limbs stiff before finally settling around your shoulders.
It was so easy to melt into him, to let your body accept his intense warmth. A relieved sound escaped you and your eyelids began to droop. “Sylus…”
“Kitten?”
“I’ve lived in this city my entire life…,” your words began to fade as sleep washed over you, “…and this is the safest I’ve ever felt.”
Maybe it was your presence that calmed him or exhaustion finally settling in, but nothing sounded more appealing than sleep in this moment. Without warning, Sylus found his eyes closing, his head resting on top of yours. With what energy he had left, he pressed a chaste, lingering kiss to the top of your hair.
“As long as I’m alive. You will never feel unsafe again.”
~~~
For the next couple auctions, Sylus went alone. No matter how much you insisted, there was no chance he’d take if it meant risking your life again. Not until he prepared you. Trained you properly. After a few days rest, you felt like yourself again.
It was dawn when you pulled up to an unmarked building, just a dark cement exterior. The silver haired man stood outside a steel door, arms crossed tapping his fingers to no particular rhythm. “You weren’t kidding. This is the most private looking gym I’ve ever seen,” you said, slinging a gym bag over one shoulder.
“Keeps the riff raff out,” Sylus replied, “shall we?”
Inside, the space was mostly taken by a boxing ring. Punching bags hung close by and free weights lined a mirrored wall. You followed Sylus to the ring, he held open the ropes as you slid underneath.
“We’ll start with a few basic moves as a warm up,” he explained, “then, test your strength.”
While you took in his directions, it was a little hard to fully focus when his workout clothes hugged every inch of his muscles. You saw every line, every vein through his compression tank. The inseam of his shorts was a lot shorter than you’d normally seen on a man, no complaints though.
Sylus wrapped your hands and wrists, sliding a pair of boxing gloves on before doing the same.
“Always keep your arms up, face guarded. Don’t allow any openings to be hit somewhere that will disrupt your equilibrium.”
He took a defensive stance, you mirrored him, making a smirk tick his lips upward. “Good. Don’t forget to breathe. When I swing, you move. If I’m not swinging, hit me.”
“You want me to hit you?,” you retorted.
Sylus chuckled, almost mocking your concern, “if you lay a punch strong enough to injure me, I’ll give you a raise.”
Challenge number two—accepted.
When he first moved, it was swift and powerful, if you hadn’t leaned back in time, your ass might have hit the ground. You weren’t hopeless, however, those weekly boxing classes seemed to give you enough skill. Both your breaths grew labored, sweat misted your skin, you watched a droplet slide down Sylus’s neck.
Using that window of distraction, he swung from the right, you could hear the force of the punch from the wind it left behind. You ducked, nailing a left hook to his ribs. A choked sound left him as he fell to one knee, “that was...”
“Good enough for a raise?,” you snickered, a smug grin on your lips.
Sylus replied with a low chuckle, one that sounded like a warning, “not quite.” Suddenly he lunged forward, pinning your wrists under his hands. There was a glow to his left eye, a halo of red that only grew brighter the closer his face inched to yours. His breath was hot as it fanned over you, lips taunting with their lack of distance. Using all your strength, you shoved a knee to his gut, successfully flipping him over with one arm twisted behind his back.
“Alright, mercy—,” he rasped, tapping your arm in surrender. He lied sprawled out on the mat, looking at you with a mix of surprise and mirth. Feeling emboldened, you crawled in the space between his open knees, “so, what’s next boss man?”
“You’re strong, and can pack a decent punch,” he replied, rubbing his sore ribs.
“But can you shoot a gun?”
As you entered Sylus’s shooting range, your eyes widened, everything you could think of was either displayed on a wall or in a locked case. Even rare protocore weapons were left untouched with no clue as to what damage they might cause. This room was a reminder of just how different a few floors in the Onychinus building could make. Desks and paper work turned into bullet proof vests and ear plugs to muffle the sharp clap of gunfire.
Your heart flickered as you stood several feet away from the target, fingers wrapped around a handgun. Sylus stood behind you, his chest pressed to your back. “Take a deep breath in,” he instructed. “Aim first, finger off the trigger.”
The gun was raised shoulder level, its weight suddenly heavy in both your hands.
“Ready?”
You nodded, planting your feet firmly in place.
Sylus rested his hands on your waist, mouth lowered to your ear, “steady…,” he breathed.
“Fire.”
As you exhaled and squeezed, it felt like time slowed. Every sensation coursed through you, like waves beneath your skin. The recoil of the gun, the loud bang of its shot, large hands that kept your frame steady and warm breath on your neck.
Then you saw it, the hole torn through the target’s center. Bullseye.
“Direct hit, you’re a natural,” he praised.
“I wasn’t expecting to be slinging bullets, I’ll admit.” But somehow, the thrill it sent through you was addicting, returning to desk work didn’t compare in the slightest.
In fact, when you submitted that application over a month ago, none of the events that transpired were expected. The feelings you developed for Sylus were certainly not either. He seemed a lot closer to you as well, especially after the incident at the auction, but how exactly are you supposed to confess romantic interest to your boss and did he even feel the same?
~~~
The red dress you slid into was barely long enough to be called one, but that’s exactly what you wanted—exposure. To bare yourself as much as possible, until you had the help of someone to strip you completely. Your hair was drawn back into a updo, a few fallen tendrils left to frame your face. Bright emeralds adorned your ears, neck and wrists—gifted to you from Sylus.
“As an apology, for the auction incident.”
Honestly, the raise you were granted was enough, but being spoiled by the very man you wanted so deeply didn’t hurt.
Many of the high end restaurants in the N109 Zone weren’t easy to get reservations for, but you still maintained enough status from your past to get the best rooftop table. You stood inside the lobby with a faux fur around your shoulders, looking utterly expensive. When he walked in, it was as if no one else existed as he caught sight of you. Sylus approached you slowly, taking in every inch of your form.
He looked effortlessly handsome, as always. Suit tailored, shoes polished—his silver hair tossled perfectly atop his head. The rings on his fingers glimmered in the restaurant’s low lighting, drawing your gaze to his hands. Hands that took lives countless times, but touched you delicately, reverently.
“What have I done to deserve to see you like this?,” he mused, taking your hand and twirling you in a slow circle.
“More than enough,” you replied with a smile and lidded eyes.
Fortunately the sky was clear tonight, for the first time in ages you saw stars in the normally smoggy atmosphere. Candlelight illuminated your faces as you barely glanced over the menu, more distracted by each other.
“So, what’s your dish of choice, Miss VIP?,” Sylus asked, swirling the scotch in his glass. You pursed your lips, taking a moment to think genuinely. “Hmm, well everything here is delicious, but I always get the same thing,” you replied, pointing your red polished nail to the Saffron Risotto. He raised his eyebrows in what seemed to be approval, “very well, then.” Unsurprisingly your meals were beyond excellent, Sylus couldn’t believe he had no knowledge the restaurant existed.
It wasn’t too late, the moon had just started to paint the city in silver light, yet he insisted on driving you home since you had work in the morning. Unlike the vintage muscle car he drove to the diner, this one was much more sleek. Black with red interior, LED lights illuminated the front cabin in a neon glow.
Both settled in your seats, he pulled off, headed in the direction of your apartment. “Sylus…,” you murmured, “since I have to be at the office…wouldn’t it be easier to, well sleep over?”
His hands tightened around the steering wheel, making the leather creak. “What exactly are you implying, Kitten?”
You caught his sideways glance, suddenly feeling warm, the kind of warmth that radiates through you after a shot of hard liquor. His eyes were even more piercing than normal, narrowed into intoxicating slits. “Well...,” you trailed off, fussing with the hem of your dress.
“I’m not ready for this night to be over, yet.”
Sylus let out a drawled hum, it rattled in his chest, almost like a purr. In one swift maneuver, he made a u-turn in the direction of the Onychinus building. The sports car felt weightless as its speed increased, making your heart pound wildly. “Relax, sweetie. Hold on any tighter and I’ll need a new pair of slacks,” he chided. Your nails dug into his pant leg like a lifeline as the speedometer hit triple digits. Adrenaline rushed through your veins, not out of fear, but excitement—arousal.
In just minutes, the towering black skyscraper came into your line of vision and reality set in. Sylus wanted you to stay just as much, and he drove like a bat out of hell to prove it.
Your footsteps echoed down the halls as you approached the ‘off limits’ staircase to his penthouse. He took your hand before ascending, eyes softened, “you’re sure this is what you want?”
“Yes, I’m very sure,” you squeezed his fingers in confirmation. A gentle smile pulled at his lips, crimson eyes glowing. He scooped you into his embrace and in a flash of black-red mist, you appeared in his bedroom.
Similar to his office, the room was filled with dark furniture, black shades over the windows and a canopied bed that resembled sanctuary. It was inviting, drawing you in like a spell. Even the smell was hypnotizing, the ghost of his cologne, spiced and sweet. He walked you towards the bed, sinking into the mattress with you on his lap.
“I never thought we’d be here,” he whispered against your neck, “close…like this…” Your body shuddered at the way his lips grazed your buzzing skin, breath warm, voice dripping like syrup. “But…I can’t say that this isn’t a privilege, your presence. Not even the finest luxuries compare.” A kiss pressed to your throat, lingering there as if to catalog the softness of your skin. His hands slid from your thighs to your waist, gripping it possessively. A sigh fell from your lips, then his name and god did it make his blood boil.
“Let me spoil you, Kitten. You deserve nothing less…,” a bite sank into your shoulder, soothed with a slow drag of his tongue. You moaned, fisting his dress shirt tight enough to tear.
“Then show me…,” you breathed, framing his waist with your thighs, arms slithering around his neck.
His body felt so solid beneath you, muscles taught and flexing with the smallest movement. He had a strength like no other, a unhuman force to be reckoned with, yet when he held you—every touch was measured and delicate. Deft fingers traced your sides, sending a shiver up your spine when they found the zipper. It dragged down slowly, baring your back to the thick, heated air.
As your dress slid down and pooled at your hips, Sylus leaned in to capture your lips. His kiss stole your breath, only allowing moans and whimpers to escape. He licked his way in your mouth with his tongue, tasting like remnants of alcohol mixed with your cherry lipgloss.
“Mmh…more,” you sighed, tangling your fingers in the hair at his nape, tugging him into a deeper embrace.
A growl rumbled from his chest and you gasped as he flipped you on your back, tugging your dress down your thighs. His normally calm, dismissive demeanor was long abandoned seeing you sprawled beneath him. Sylus’s mouth lowered to your neck, dotting wet kisses until he reached the swell of your breasts. His teeth sank into the plush skin, leaving a rosy mark in their wake. “Fuck—,” you keened, “don’t stop.” “I don’t plan to,” he purred, dragging a long stripe down your stomach with his tongue.
A pulse began to throb between your legs, you needed friction, fullness—your chest heaved with frantic breath as he drew closer to your core. Sylus nuzzled into the damp lace barrier that hid your aching sex, the broad hump of his nose teasing your clit. “Ah—please…,” you begged, hips bucking impatiently.
“Patience, sweetie…I want to savor you,” he replied, low and honeyed. His fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, making the slow decent down your thighs. His pupils dilated at the sight of you, pink and swollen—lower lips glistening with slick. “God, you’re perfect,” he groaned, pursing a kiss to your inner thigh, “and so fucking wet.” When his tongue finally parted your folds, you yelped from the sensation, warm and firm, collecting your arousal with one languid swipe. Your body writhed as he sucked and licked, devouring your pussy like the decadent meal it was. The sounds emanating from where his mouth met your flesh were filthy, leaving his lips and chin soaked.
Sylus ground his cock into the bed, his growing hardness begging to be released. But the flavor of you dancing over his tastebuds took over, the sounds leaving your pretty mouth rang in his ears like harp strings. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet. I can’t get enough,” he praised between kisses to your sticky folds. You could only hum and coo in response, grinding slow circles against his jaw. But you needed more, you needed all of him, every last inch. Even when his long, pink muscle filled you—it wasn’t enough to feed your desires.
“Sy—Sylus, fuck me…please,” you whined, earning a dark chuckle from his throat. Your ears twitched at the sound of his belt buckle finally being undone.
“Are you sure she’s ready for me?,” he teased, running two fingers over your entrance. A choked sound ripped from you as they sank inside, pumping with a tortuous rhythm that had you gushing around the thick digits. “Mmm, I think she is, you’re already gripping me so tightly.” The emptiness only lasted a moment before you felt his fingers retract and the head of his cock push inside.
“So…big, fuck—,” you gasped, letting your legs fall open, breathing through the intrusion. “You’re already taking me sooo well, Kitten. Can you feel me here?” His palm splayed over your abdomen pressing down where he was buried. His hips began to rock, slowly at first, allowing you to feel every vein and ridge. Moans and calls of his name fell from your parted lips. He filled you perfectly, hitting every spot that made stars burst behind your eyes. And you moulded to him, walls spasming with every deep thrust.
“Fuck—I knew you were special. When I first saw your name, your picture…,” Sylus professed, forehead pressed to yours. “Your mind..your body…this fucking pussy—it’s like they were made for me alone.”
The wet slapping of skin filled the air and his thrusts grew rougher, more deliberate. Every jolt stole your breath and made your chest jiggle. He took a nipple in his mouth, sucking, teasing, rolling the bud between his teeth. It was all too much, every sensation burning from the inside out. The tightly wound coil inside you was on the precipice of snapping. “Harder, give it to me harder…,” you pleaded, locking your legs around his waist. Sylus obeyed, joining his hips with yours again and again.
“Keep your eyes on me…I want to watch you fall apart,” he whispered, cradling your face in his hands. “You’re so close, so gorgeous. I can feel everything…”
His lips slotted with yours once more, sweeping in tandem, tongues overlapping in an intricate dance. You wanted nothing more than to be caged beneath his body, held in his arms, full of his essence. Every twitch of his cock made you wince with pleasure, a reminder of his claim on you from the inside. Heat welled up in your belly, spilling over like lava, sending tingles down to your toes.
“I-I’m going to c-cuumm,” you moaned, head tossed into the sheets, nails scoring the planes of Sylus back. His thrusts drove into you, losing rhythm but still sending your eyes to the back of your skull. He was going to crash with you, his breath ragged and hot against your neck—body glistening with sweat.
“Where do you want me? Tell me…command me…,” he rasped, lips grazing your ear before his teeth bit into the lobe.
“Inside…I want to be yours, make me yours!,” you cried as your body tensed, your orgasm rippling through you in intense, earth shattering waves.
“God, Sylus, just don’t fucking stop!”
His. You said it, whether from the heat of passion or otherwise, it felt so real—as tangible as the skin beneath his palms.
“Mine,” he claimed, frayed and rough, rutting into you one last time before you felt the heat of him fill you to the brim and leak from your entrance.
“All. Mine.”
His weight pinned you down, heavy yet grounding. You traced the raised scratches on his back and kissed where your lips could touch. You didn’t want to leave this moment of time, didn’t want him to pull himself out of you. And he couldn’t, still being held with an iron grip, still being milked of every last drop.
“You really don’t want me to leave?,” he teased gently, rolling your bodies on their side. His chest rose and fell against your back, lulling you into a calm embrace. The heat of him felt safe even as it swallowed you whole, sinking you deeper into his arms.
“No….have to stay like this all night,” you sighed, finally coming down from your euphoric high.
“I can do that,” he soothed, kissing the space between your shoulder blades.
You didn’t remember falling asleep, your eyes drooped shut, yet your ears caught one last line before you sank into your dreams.
“I would stay for ever if you asked.”
“So please, ask.”
~~~
The smell of his skin still lingered. You didn’t want to wash it away, didn’t want to forget. How he touched you, every word of reverence and promise spoken with a voice that didn’t shake, there was no doubt that he was yours. It was evident in the way he held you as the sun fought to stream through his black curtains. How he’d squeeze tighter if you stirred just enough to shift the bedding. As your eyes focused, he became clearer, his sharp features softened by dawn. Heart shaped lips curled into a smile, even during sleep—like he was dreaming about something kind, something warm and inviting.
You.
Hardened by life, the N109, his unforgiving occupation and yet, this was the first time Sylus felt truly at ease. Your pulse flickered under his fingertips, warm and strong and undeniably his.
“Mm—what? Do I have bead head?”, he groaned, voice still heavy with sleep.
Carding a few fingers through his silver tresses, you smiled, “a little.”
“…Mmph.”
“I like it.”
“In that case, I won’t fight with the blow dryer just yet.”
You both touched each other thoughtfully, tracing tenderly over bruises and bite marks. They decorated your skin like temporary love tattoos, in shades of rose and violet.
“Thankfully I don’t have to hide these from my boss,” you said, giving Sylus a knowing look.
He chuckled, the sound rich and sweet.
“Especially since he plans on giving you more.”
*~*~*
a/n: Oh my goodness, this was such a long project. Literally months of writing, but a labor of love nonetheless. Thank you so much for reading! :) please reblog, comment and like if you enjoyed. Don’t steal, repost or feed into ai.
秦彻 – cocky ex husband!sylus who’s still in love with your pussy .ᐟ
the divorce was mutual.
but the feelings you had for each other...weren't.
you were over sylus, completely over him—you moved on quicker than you thought you would.
but sylus?
yeah, no. he was definitely not over you.
he never left you alone. he came over when he wanted to, and only to do two things: convince you to get back with him, and fuck you.
well, mainly the second thing. but you get it.
he says he doesn’t miss or love you, just to give you hope for a second chance; but his actions show a lot. when he’s deep inside you on a busy, overworked night, rocking his desperate hips against yours, pounding you like the world is about to end—the words that come out of his mouth is a whole different story.
he doesn't miss you? then why is he groaning about how much he misses your pussy like it's been years he hasn't had it? the last time you fucked was at least a couple days ago!
“god, she’s reactin’ a lot, huh?” sylus’s cock sunk deeper in your used cunt, trying to capture every inch of you. you instinctively flutter around him—feeling his girth suck you up at every thrust pounding in your sweet hole.
"ungh- fuck—you! s-sylus!"
"uh-huh," he sucked in a heavy breath before blowing a breath of air at your face, watching your brows furrow at the action. "don't worry. i am, sweetie." he pressed his thumb against your clit, pushing down on it before giving it a pinch, noticing you flinching beneath him.
"still sensitive?" he stared down at his cock buried deep in you, rocking his hips in an excruciatingly slow rhythm to see him stretching you out at every movement. "don't worry-"
"sh—ngh!- shut up!"
"–Oh?"
he says he doesn't love you? then why is he whispering sweet praises in your ear, telling you how he'd be a good husband if you take him back just one more time; and that it'll be guaranteed you'd stay with him forever.
the bucks of his hips increasing momentum against your skin made you yelp at every thrust getting thrown at you. sylus holds onto your sides like you'll run away from him if he lets go, the impatience in his body was creeping up to him and every second was getting difficult for him to focus.
"still love you, y'know?" he muttered, inching closer until his face was just centimeters away from yours. his lips ghost over yours and you hold back a breath before turning your head away.
"no kissing, remember?"
"mhm, I remember, yet..." he paused, pulling away so you could breathe again. the silence in the room was getting louder by the second—you felt a cool whiff of awkwardness swirl around the two of you and it was painfully silent.
but before you could blink, or speak, a hard, brutal thrust jabbed deep in you. and you weren't exaggerating when you meant deep. seriously, sylus pushed his full length inside you, keeping you in a mating press.
"...I could still do this to you."
"I- hah- it's n-not the same! fuck!"
"I want you to think again," he whispered.
"think about taking me back... please."
a/n. Bitch why break up then. im getting back w/ him asap ! till that dick limp n sore from fuckin’ me all day 😋 also ima making more of this trope #sorrynotsorry
SYNOPSIS. Caleb's been your best friend and long time crush forever, so when you find yourself trapped in this twisted, deadly game, it's only natural to think he's here to save you. Right?
FEAT. yandere!bestfriend!caleb x crushing!reader
A/N; yeah, this is actually kinda fucked up man... dunno what to say uhhhh... game is game lmaoooo. And yes, I was too lazy to proofread^^🏷️; @potania @applecaviar Enjoy and have a great night/day <333
TAGS. 4.7k. words. DARK/NSFW CONTENT. MDNI! saw like universe. Dubcon. they r both sick in the head. reader has a hugeee crush on caleb. possessive/yandere caleb. missionary. Fingering. virginity loss. pörn with plot. killing game. dirty talk. corruption. heavyyy size k!nk. manipulation. dacryphilia. unprotected intercourse. pussydrunk caleb. breedin. caleb is sooo sick. friends to lovers (if u can even call it that).
SATRS K!NKTOB€R 2025!
Bzzz... Bzzzz... Bzzkkkk!
The buzzing, mechanical hum of a projector is what brings you back to your senses, heavy eyelids slowly lifting.
Goosebumps tickle you all over, a cold, metalic weight clinging to your skin, seated on a suspiciously neat and clean matress. The room is nothing but concrete walls, a rusted drain at the far, dark end, and a single light flickering right above your head.
That's when your nerves connect, a lightning rushing through your brain when you realize, you're not at home anymore. You're somewhere unknown.
Somewhere dangerous.
You bolt upright in panic, the fixed chain tethering you to a metal bar on your ankle, only worsening your rapidly beating heart.
"Pips'! Hey, hey, easyyy, now. It's okay, I'll get us outta here."
You'd recognize this voice anywhere.
Caleb?
Your head whips toward him and there he stands a few feet away, chained as well with no matress on his end, sitting against the opposite wall. His chestnut hair messy, broad chest rising and falling steadily, voice impressively calm.
"C-caleb? What the fuck is going on here?! Where are we?"
He shakes his head, running a hand over his jaw. "No clue. I woke up bare minutes earlier than ya' did. One second I was on my way home from your place, and then—" He trails off, frustratingly gesturing around the sketchy room, huffing out a breath.
Caleb.
Your best friend. The one who always stood between you and the world when it tried to hurt you. The one who carried your backpack when you were too tired, who patched you up after scraped knees, who fought off anyone who dared make you cry.
It's always been that way. Ever since you were kids.
Caleb, your best friend, your anchor in the storm.
And the one you've been hopelessly, stupidly in love with since forever.
You've buried it down deep, lived with it quietly, choosing your friendship over some risky confession. But it's always been there, even in a moment like this, making your chest ache, even in the middle of this waking nightmare.
But the weight of the unknown gnaws at you. Because if not even Caleb knows what's going on, then it's endgame.
Your eyes burn as you wrench at the chains biting into your ankle, skin raw beneath the iron grip. Just what in the hell is going on here? And why you both? And who would—?!
Bzzzz— CLICK!
The old TV in the center of the room sputters awake, its static filling the silence. A warped voice breaks through, echoing across the fractured concrete walls.
"Welcome, players. Tonight, a choice must be made. A choice that decides life or death. The rules are simple. To live, you two must participate in sexual intercourse."
Sexual... intercourse? What kind of sickshow is this?
"Refuse, and carbon monoxcide will fill this room, sealing your fatal fate. Your salvation lies on your shoulders. Act in union to earn your survival."
You laugh. Not out of comedic relief but rather because of the ton of fear flooding through you. It's ridiculous, so ridiculous in fact, that you're unsure if this is really a joke. What if it's real, and you two got kidnapped by some sadistic psycho, getting aroused by watching their victims fuck before killing them?
Your throat tightens, terror crawling up your spine. A prank? A sick reality-show stunt? Please, please let it be. You snap your head to Caleb, praying he'll smirk, roll his eyes, call it bullshit. But he doesn't. His eyes are locked on the screen, brows knit in grim concern.
Oh fuck.
"T-this must be some sick TV-prank. I'm sure—" You try to make light of the situation, you really do. But then the voice continues.
"You have one hour. Fail, and your bodies will rot together in this tomb."
Bzzz... Krk!
Silence swallows the room as the tape cuts.
Your gaze flickers frantically around the room, catching the black eye of a camera in the corner, and the suspicious vents lining the ceiling. Vents that look perfectly capable of flooding this cell with poison.
No joke. No prank. You're fucked. Capital F.
Trembling, you're hugging your knees to your chest, causing Caleb to push straight off the wall, chains rattling as he shifts closer within his limited reach, sitting at the edge of the matress. His eyes lock on you, trying to calm and ground you in a comforting way that makes your racing heart ache even in this nightmare.
"Hey. Pips'. Look at me." And you do, glassy eyes starring up into his big ones, already feeling a little better. "We'll figure this out. Together. I'm not letting anything happen to ya', okay? Everything's gonna be alright."
You nod weakly, though your stomach flips like it's trying to claw its way out. Caleb has always been protective and caring over you. But right now? Right now that protection feels terrifyingly conditional.
"Stay with me. Breathe. In and out— juuust like that."
You obey, shaky but steadying under his command, and of course he notices, praise slipping from his lips like a habit.
"Gooood." His voice dips lower now, and maybe it's just your nerves twisting things, but it lingers in your ears differently than it ever has before. The thought slips away the moment you meet his unyielding gaze, familiar protectivness gleeming behind his iris.
As always.
But your relief cracks the instant you remember what the rules demanded. It's right in your face— a giant clock counting down the hour, that is.
Seconds turn into minutes, minutes stretch like hours. And beneath the terror, the crush you've been carrying for years throbs intense inside your chest, more damning than that ticking clock.
Caleb keeps his breathing steady and calm, watching you with that familiar type of focus. But his gaze lingers a little too long, like he's waiting for something.
"I think they're serious." His voice is quiet though, careful, even. "We've seen shit like this in movies, right, pips'? Whoever's doing this, wants to watch us fall apart."
You shake your head furiously. "No. No, there's no way they can—this can't be the only way. There's gotta be a door, or—" rattling your chain frantically, but it's no use.
Caleb shifts forward on the matress to pull you into his space as far as the chain allows him to, hand settling on your thigh to calm you down.
"Pips'. Listen." His hand squeezes your thigh now to get your attention and, of course it does, "If it comes down to you dying or… well, doing what they want us to then—shit. I'm not letting you die in here. You hear me?"
You nod quickly, too quickly, trying to hide how your pulse leaps just from his touch. And for the briefest moment, you could almost pretend this is another night with just the two of you, sitting a little too close on your couch after a movie, his hand brushing yours and making your heart skip a beat.
Except now there's no couch. Nor a movie.
For so long it's been second nature to bite your tongue, bury the longing under jokes and casual smiles. To swallow every flicker of heat when he'd nudge your shoulder, when his laugh spilled into your ear, when he'd throw that lopsided grin at you.
But here, sealed in these concrete walls with death ticking down on the wall, you're tempted. Tempted to spill the secret you've been trying so hard to take to the grave.
"Caleb, I—"
His thumb strokes along your thigh, his sharp, purple hues pinning you. "Yeah? Something on yer' mind? C'mon, tell me."
It's something, alright.
Swallowing hard, you try to escape his piercing gaze. Tell him what? That you've wanted him for years? That the thought of dying in this shithole without feeling his kiss, or his touch on your naked body makes your chest ache worse than the fear itself?
Tears sting at the corners of your eyes as you shake your head quickly, shrinking in on yourself, arms wrapping around your knees like a shield again. Your forehead drops against them, a wet sniffle slips out before you can hold it, echoing just enough in the silence that you know he heard.
"Nothing," you blurt out, voice muffled against your arms, "It's nothing."
Close. So fucking close.
He almost had you spilling the secret you've been choking on for years. He could see it in you, taste it, even. But no. You just have to fold back into yourself, too shy and too stubborn to finally admit the thing he's been waiting on for years.
Just like you always do.
"It's alright, pips'. We'll be alright."
Did you really think he never noticed the way your hands always shook when they brushed against his, the way you stared a little too long when you thought he wasn't?
Patience. He'd given you so much of it. Years of waiting, of letting you keep the secret he's known all along. He's counted on it, wanted you to be the one to take a step first, give you the space.
No. That shy act just wont do. He won't let you wiggle out this time. Not after he worked so fucking hard for this.
"I'll take care of you," his smooth tone reels you in, head lifting to lock onto his gaze, "If doing this is the only way out, then I'll make it as easy as I can for you."
Cheeks burning under his gaze, you force yourself to look away, because if you don't, he might see it. He might finally realize that him being your first is everything you've ever dreamed of.
But oh, you foolish girl. He already knows. Always has.
Because Caleb's been planning— scheming, playing the role of the big protective best friend for years, scaring off every guy who so much as looked at you, weaving excuses, subtle threats, every trick he needed to keep you untouched. Safe.
Because you deserved so much better than those jerks. You deserve someone like him.
The weight of his words knots in your chest, suffocating almost, because you've never been with anyone, and he knows that.
You told him once, years ago, in a moment where both of you were high off the blunt, his comfortable presence making you feel a tad bit bold. And he's clutched it close ever since, like a secret talisman, guarding it, making sure no one else could ever claim you first.
And now the thought of your first time happening here, like this, under the eyes of some sick stranger—
Tears sting at your lashline, a fat lump forming in your throat. You don't want this. Not like this. But the ticking clock's still lingering behind your thoughts.
You don't want to die here either.
Caleb's thumb traces slow, soothing circles into your thigh, hypnotic rhythm getting to you as your clenching thigh relaxes in his hold, "It doesn't have to be scary. You trust me, don'tcha?"
A sob catches before you can swallow it down, but you nod anyway. Because you do. You always have.
"Good girl."
Words sliding out of him like a sigh, almost too reliefed. Almost. His lips twitch into a fleeting smirk before settling back into his mask of calm reassurance.
But inside he's swelling with triumph. He's been waiting for this, for you to stop hiding behind shyness, stop pretending your best friend act and finally expose your secret crush.
Caleb's been watching it bloom in you for years, feeding it with subtle brushes of his thigh to yours, quick, seemingly innocent kisses to the cheek or even nicknames best friends shouldn't be calling eachother.
"You gotta say it, baby", his gaze locked to your lips, desperate and hungry to just devour you whole, "Say ya' trust me. Say it, and I'll take reallll good care of you."
And it's strange that you almost obey, because the red flag should've been raised here, but you open your mouth anyway, ready to finally dig out the burden you've been carrying for so long.
But before the words can leave you, the TV in the corner blinks to life again and the warped voice drones the same lines you've already heard, over and over again.
It's a loop.
Your stomach drops.
"…Caleb," you whisper, dread clawing through your veins as you stare at the screen, "It's a loop. They prerecorded everything."
He follows your gaze and for a beat, his face unreadable. Then he shrugs, too casual for your liking, "Maybe they didn't bother making it live."
Unease twists your gut. He's way too calm, way too composed. And just as you were about to look at him, you saw that menacing smirk for real this time. You know you did.
"How can you be so calm about this? We have to get going and look for a way out, Cay'. Let's start with these stupid chains."
Just as your hand wraps around the chain on your ankle, his firm hand abandons your thigh and clasps over yours to stop, hold too strong to be anything but suspicious.
"Pips', don't hurt'cha little head overthinking it."
Where is his sudden turn coming from? This is strange. Really fucking strange.
That's when you see that the chain around his leg isn't even locked. And it probably never was.
Your head whips toward him, but he's already watching you intently, eyes sharp and gleaming with odd possesiveness that you can't muster, his lips curling into an oddly soft smile that doesn't add up to his alarming gaze at all.
Caleb. It's him. He's behind all this.
Crawling from his grasp, your back hits the cold concrete as Caleb follows you suit, your hands digging into the matress below as you shake your head in disbelief.
"C-Caleb, don't tell me you're behind all this."
Would your Caleb, your best friend, the one you've loved and known for so long really go this far? Lock you up for his selfish gain?
No, you refuse to believe it.
"Shhhhh, it's alright, don't run from me, love." Tall frame hovering above you now, his knees dig into the matress as his palm cups your cheek, thumb brushing away tears you hadn't realized were spilling.
"You're not scared, are you? M' here, your Caleb's here. Nothing will happen to ya'— there's no real camera, no toxic gas. But you'll just have to trust me here, pips'."
"Trust you?" your voice breaks, "W-what are you on about? Please just tell me you have nothing to do with this. Please, Cay'."
He ignores your question, only leaning closer, commanding voice now in the familiar softness you've known to love, "Tell me ya' trust me, baby. Tell me, and I'll get ya' outta here."
Now it hits you like a fist to the gut.
"Get me out? So you've known how to get out of here all along and set up this fake killing game? You locked me up here, didn't you? This is—this is insane! You're—"
The word sticks in your throat because you can't say it. You can't brand him a monster, call him a sick fuck for all of this despite the clear picture.
"Guess the game's up."
Your body goes weak, because every last bit of hope is shattered now. You've hoped for him to just deny it, explain himself and not prove your suspicions right.
"You really did this?", you whisper more to yourself than him, flinching as the now free man tip-toes his fingers along your arm, humming in agreement.
"Guiltyyy."
He eases back just enough to let his gaze wander over your shaking body, halting just a moment at your exposed shoulder, where the string of your top slid down your arm.
"Told you not to overthink it, but my girl can't help it, can she? Always trying to put the pieces together. That's what made me so obsessed with ya', my smart girl."
This can't be real.
"Caleb, this is wrong—"
"Ya' know what's wrong?" Interrupting, his lashes lower as his gaze cuts into you, "That you kept me waiting all these years. That you hid how badly you wanted me when I was right there, ready to take care of you. Ready to love you. But no. You had to be stubborn and swallow it all down."
The TV clicks off, the countdown silenced with a flick of his wrist, "It's a shame, really. That I had to go this far."
And to your own shock, you feel oddly at ease. It isn't a real death game, thank the heavens. You're not going to die here.
But still, the reality still shocks you to the core.
"I was... scared."
"Scared of what? Rejection? " His scoff is bitter, but his hand softens where it rests on your arm, slightly squeezing it, "Tch. Yer' fucking kidding."
At his words memories surface, strange little things you always brushed off before. The way your best friend's jaw always clenched when another guy so much as looked at you. Or the half-joking, half-serious offer to 'help you get that first kiss out of the way.' You'd never pieced it together. Or maybe you had, but simply brushed it off as impossible. Because, what are the odds that your huge crush happend to be mutual?
You should be disgusted. Terrified, even. You should slap his hand away and try to get out of this insanity and far, far away from him. Instead, heat boils up in your stomach, the realization sickly making your heart flutter in a way that feels wrong.
He likes you. Wants you. And he's willing to… to be your first?
This must be a fever dream.
"Caleb…" Your body moves before your mind can catch up, crawling the tiny distance toward him, heart hammering as you close the gap until your face is just a breath away from his, tears still wet on your cheeks, but your gaze fixated on him. "I trust you."
Glee of joy behind his pupils as he catches your chin, eyes searching yours as his thumb drags across your bottom lip, pressing until you part for him, smashing his mouth onto yours. It's hungry in the way his tongue swrils into your mouth, kissing you like he's been holding himself back for years.
Which he has.
You don't even notice the faint click! as the chain around your ankle slackens, falling uselessly to the floor. And when he pulls back just enough to gawk at your dazed expression in awe, you catch the faint glint of a key between his fingers before he tosses it aside. He'd had it all along.
The taste of him makes your head spin. You moan right into his mouth as his other hand fists in your hair to hold you close.
"Finally, alllll mine now," he mumbles against your jaw now, trailing kisses down your throat, biting playfully. His hand drags down your front, slipping under your shirt, flicking your perked nipples, until his fingers tease the edge of your waistband. "Let me take care of ya', yeah?"
Your hips buck when his hand dips lower, sliding between your thighs, one finger pressing against your soaked panties, circling lazily patterns riiiight onto your clit and you squeak, hips twisting and turning.
And god, it feels so much better than all those nights you spent alone in your room, rubbing your needy little button under the covers, whispering his name into your pillow, imagining what his hands might feel like.
Well, now you know.
"That's it," Praise spilling as he sucks your collarbone, his voice dripping with pride, "My baby wants it bad, huh? Been holding out on me?"
"Mhmmm, wanted this for sooo long, Cay'." Your voice breaks as his fingers slip past the cotton, running through your slick folds before plunging one thick digit inside, stretch making your back arch off into his chest.
"Awww, tight lil' cunny," Kissing down your chest, he's mouthing over your shirt until he pushes it up right over your tits, groaning at the sight, "Gotta split you open, ya' hear? Make sure this perfect pussy cums 'round my fingers."
Another finger joins, curling until your hand shoots down, curling around his busy wrist as you feel him reach that sweet spot you've never got to grasp with your own small digits.
Your sniffles make his dick twitch in his pants, rutting his hips against the matress as he eagerly works you open, peppering kisses over your breasts, tongue flicking a nipple before he whines, sucking it hard into his mouth.
"So beautiful," he's pulling back just enough to see your tear-stained face, hips twitching as you chase every rub of his pads against that sweet, tender spot inside you, "Big girl's taking it soooo well."
You can barely breathe, hips rocking against his hand as you feel your stomach twist from the inside out, the praise sinking way deeper than the stretch.
Thighs quivering as you rock helplessly against his hand, walls fluttering around him as your hands grasp at his bicep, high-pitched cries of yours indicating that you're—
"Fuckkk, gonna cum 'round my fingers just like that, baby?"
"Y-yes, think m'— nghhh!"
Hands now clawing at his tensing biceps, other hand yanking his hair to earn a broken whimper in return, tension building tight in your belly until you can't take it anymore.
"Don't think about anything. Js' be a good girl f' me and cum, yeah?"
"Ohhh-kay! Hnghh! Cay'! Cay'!"
Your cum gushes all over his hand and shirt, pussy spasming and biting down hard on his finger, refusing to let go. It's all to much as his wrist wont stop slap slap slapping against you, heel of his palm smacking your clit so cruelly, tears begin to blur your vision, rolling down your cheeks as you ride out your violent orgasm.
You still cling to him, sniffing away as you watch him pull his fingers free, shining with your cum, smearing them over your clit, making you shriek, just to curl his mouth around them right after, humming in delight at your taste.
"F-fuckkk, wanna taste you more, but—" he stops just to suckle the last remains of you right onto his greedy tastebuds, whining in impatience, "can't wait, I can't—"
Blurry eyes of yours observe him undoing his pants at damn near lightning speed, tugging his boxers down his massive imprint, and your eyes widen as his fat cock springs free, flushed tip slapping onto his abdomen, leaking pre.
Your thighs press together instinctively, because he's so much bigger than you imagined in your midnight fantasies. He just chuckles, firm hand clapping around your knee to spread your legs apart. "Ohhh, no, no, don't hide away now. Said you trusted me, so yer' gonna let me in, yeah?"
You nod, shy as you look up at him like a lost lamb, and it does his throbbing cock no good because now he holds it at the base, wildly jumping, turning painfully red.
"Wan' you, Cay'. P-please."
It's time, it's finally time. His excitement is etched across his face, every breath uneven, every muscle twitching impatiently. And it's evident with his hung cock.
"Yes, Yes. Gonna give it to ya' pips'—," blabbering and lining his flushed tip right at your drenched pussy, his head hangs low as he rubs the thick head round and 'round your hole, groaning as you clench right on his slit. "Gonna stretch your tiny pussy so gooood."
Staying true to his word he pushes in slooooowly, stopping once your stretched cunny clamps on his bulky head, making you gasp and claw at his shoulders instantly.
"Fuh-fuck! T-too big, Cay'! I c-can't— ouuhhh!" but he shushes you, kissing your tears away, murmuring praise against your lips as he forces your poor cunny to swallow him some inches deeper.
"You can, baby. I know ya' can. A-aaaalmost there, pips'— s-shittttt! Doin' perfect f' me."
Your body shudders as you take another inch, and he sinks even deeper until he's halfway in, your walls fluttering frantically around his massive girth. You're so damn full, stretched so wide, and he's not even all the way in yet.
You whine, huffing and puffing out breaths as your eyes scrunch shut, "Don't think I can take it, Cay'. T-too much."
"Relaxxx, baby. C'mon, lemme innnn," his voice is whiny, desperate to feel your impossible tight clench down to his base, his lip caged between his teeth, trying to hold himself back from slamming right into you.
Caleb cups the back of your knee now, pushing it higher, spreading you wider so he can force in another inch, burn flaring overwhelmingly inside you, the way his thick cock throbs inside you making your head spin.
"A-already halfway— h-hahhh!— in," he croons, though his voice breaks halfway, sweat beading on his temple as he fights to keep pushing in slowly. His free hand strokes over your belly, tapping right under your belly button, "G-gotta be right here, ya' see? Gonna plug my perfect girl up."
His jaw drops once your pussy stutters around him, your nails ranking down his slick back as he pushes deeper until you feel the blunt head nudge at your gummy sweet spot, his pre sticking to it like glue, filling you to the brim.
Trail of faint brown hair tickle you clit, your pussy now completely swallowing him to the base, head hanging low in your neck, biting down your shoulder to keep himself from moving.
"Goooood job, baby. Took all of me deep inside ya'," He kisses your cheek, hissing at another claw down his now red back, his hand pressing down firmly onto your belly, earning a loud wail from you.
"Told ya' m' gonna be right. here."
"O-oh god, Caleb! M' so fuckin' full! So—"
"Damn right."
Then he starts to move, dragging his cock out slowly until you desperatly cling to his tip, then pludges back in deep, each thrust wringing whimpers from your throat and pushing you further up the matress.
"F-fuck! Pussy 's squeezin' the life outta me," Caleb groans, voice damn near breaking, "Yer' mine. Your first a-and last, you hear?"
"M' yours! All yours, Cay'! Love you! S-so much!"
Every thrust gets dangerously close to your cervix, your body now on fire from the pool of pleasure sitting in your belly, his weight pinning you down, hips rolling with a rhythm that has you sniffing through tears of pleasure.
"Mhmmm, love ya' more than you can imagine, baby. Nobody else gets you like this," stealing another whimper from your lips he's quick to swallow with his mouth, his hips stutter, balls drawing up tight, "Just me. Lil' virgin cunny 's all stuffed with my cock now."
Stars explode behind your eyes as his tip tries to squeeze through the entrance of your womb, familiar tension in your belly coiling impossibly tight until you're sobbing into his shoulder.
"C-Caleb—oh shiiiit!—it's so fuckin' good! So good! M' gonna cum again!"
"Uh huhhhh, you better."
Eyes wild, his rhythm falters as he pounds into your gushing pussy, pelvis slapping against your clit, one hand smacking your thigh with pure excitement, "Fuckin' cum on your cock. 'S alllll yours, baby. C'mon, make a mess f' me."
Just like that, you're gone.
The tight knot in your belly snaps with force, your whole body seizing around him as you scream without sound, cunt gripping him in desperate, milking spasms, soaking him in your essence as your hips buck up into his.
It's all too much for him.
Your tears, cries, and the way you viciously trap his cock drives him into insanity and right over the edge.
"Ohhhh fuck fuck fuck! Shiiiit— Gonna shoot it right into ya'."
He's burried deep as his heavy balls shoot ropes after ropes of thick cum into you, overflowing your poor pussy.
"D-did so well, pips'. Love you so much, my perfect girl."
Chest still heaving, every nerve inside you is in shock, his cock pumping the last whisps of his whites into you. His groans fade into weak breaths, grip on your hips staying iron clad, terrified of the idea you'd slip away.
You don't know if it's the tears on your cheeks or the haze of pleasure fogging your head, but you dwell in the tender words he whispers.
That you're his perfect girl. That he loves you. That you're his now.
"My sweet, sweet, pips'. All mine."
And you don't flinch at the claim, melting under it as your lips curl into a weak smile, nudging your nose against his.
After all the years of longing, you finally have him. And he's got it all wrong. You're not his.
SYNOPSIS. You didn't know that trick or treating and prank calls were still a thing. Especially not for the average grown man. And he's wearing that stupid ghostmask? Really?
FEAT. ghostface!sylus x fem!reader
A/N; Broooooo. I loveeee gentle and loving husband sylus but I've been cravinggggg for some rough and crazy stuff for him. Aaaand since it's kinktober time now I was like hey! Lec! why don't you just write some crazy shit??? Well, this came out of it. Enjoyyyy <3 🏷️; @thevoidanubis @d3adpill here ya go sweeties^^
TAGS. 4.3k. words. DARK/NSFW CONTENT. MDNI. knife play. blood(?). unprotected intercourse. Dubcon. rough s€x. sylus is a stranger and creepy. pörn with littleeee plot. sylus threatening to kill reader multiple times. Sylus's a serial killer duhhh. riding. missionary. oral(fem). blindfolding(if you can call it that). dacryphilia. sizekink. orgasm denial. choking. cockdrunk reader/pussydrunk Sylus. manhandling.
K!NKTOB€R 2025!
"What's your favourite scary movie?"
The thought of the silly costume parties you'd passed on this year hadn't prepared you for… this.
The phone calls are quick, yet leave an unsettling weight hanging in the air. You're sure they must be harmless pranks but somthing about them are just so... weird.
Because why the hell is a grown man on the other line, acting as if you're right in the middle of a slasher horror movie?!
"Urgh. Shut the hell up. I'm not in the mood for these stupid old pranks."
You hang up, but sigh dramatically once ur phone rings again, same 'unknown' caller ID flashing across the screen.
Can a girl have some rest?!
Deciding to just ignore the prankster, you toss your phone next to you onto the couch as you settle comfortably again, ready to kick up your feet, relax on this damned Halloween night and binge watch—
Ringringringring!
For fuck's sake.
Just this one last time.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
"That's like, none of your fucking business, you sick creep!"
"Sorry, where are my manners. I'm just curious about you, Y/N. I just want to know if who I'm looking at is still on the market. Might shoot my shot and invite myself in, sweetie."
Okayyy. This is getting scary now.
" Is the popcorn you’re eating sweet or salty? Bet it's sweet. Sweet popcorn for a sweet girl."
Oh, hellll nah.
"Alright, fun's over now. I don't know how you know my name, and I sure as hell don't know why a fucking stranger is playing peeping tom into my house, but you better have a reallll good explanation—"
Beep. beep beep.
"This fucker, no way he just— hey!"
And no matter how many loud insults you screamed into the beeping phone, you hadn't been able to stop your hands from shaking, weirdness of it all really giving you the creeps now.
Knock.
Knockknockknock.
Okayyy, calm down. Surely it's some kid trick or treating, right?
You take quick steps to the peephole, wide eye in search for the belling culprit only to be met with a masked figure, black-and-white mask grinning at you with that familiar horror.
It's hands are gloved, stained with something you can't quite catch, glint of something metal barely catching the porch light.
What are the odds? A creepy stranger right now after your creepy call encounter?
It's better to just leave them be.
You turn around quietly on your tipy toes, making a glance back just to make sure your door is really locked—
KNOCK KNOCK!
Great.
Glancing into the peephole again, the figure tilts it's head now, seemingly staring right into your soul as it lifts a hand, equiped with a knife, real or fake, you can't tell, and—
RIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!
The doorbell shrieks, rattling through your chest, heartbeat pounding hard enough to drown everything else out.
Ah, fuck it. He won't just dissapear if you ignore him anyway.
You hesitate only a second before yanking the door open, taking a deep breath with adrenaline rushing.
And he just... stands there. Talllll figure preying down on you.
"If you're from the phone call, this isn't funny," you snap, voice shaking more than you'd like it to. "Look, if you don't go away, I'm going to call the police."
You lift your phone clutched tightly in your hand, but before you could even hit the three digits, he was already inside, door falling shut behind him with a faint click! to the lock that makes your heart drop to your belly.
Looming in your space, too close to your liking, the mask's still shadowing the strangers face. The knife gleams faintly in the low light as he lifts it just enough to make you freeze, feet taking a step back only for him to take one closer.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.
"Police?," His voice finally cuts through the sufforcating silence, "Cute."
"W-what the hell are you doing?! Get out!"
"Get out?"
Red, predatory orbs peek through the mesh of the mask, glowing faint in the dim light, earning a startled gasp from you as you stumble backwards, only for him to tilt his head, as if you are the crazy one.
"But I just got in."
You're frozen in fear as he stolls towards you, knife swirling between his fingers in an almost bored manner and now you catch the weird glit that adored the knife as you peeped through the peephole— it's blood.
He steps right into your personal bubble and bursts it, and now you really get a good look at him, a terrifing one at that. Splatters of blood decor the white mask almost everywhere, a faint strand of silverish hair peaking from his hood. And that's when you realize—
This is no prank.
You've got yourself a killer in your house.
"It's kind of rude," the stranger muses, raising his knife to play with a strand of your hair, making you jolt and squeeze your eyes shut as you feel something once the metal accidently touches your cheek, leaving behind something warm and wet— probably blood— staining your skin, "not to give your guests anything as a good welcome, don't you think?"
Free hand now traveling to your quivering throat, his thumb strokes once across the sensitive column of your neck, lingering there before sliding down to hook beneath your chin, tilting your face up, body pressing forward until there's nowhere left for you to go but back, back, back, until—
Thumb.
The wall stops you.
"I don't— p-please leave. I won't tell anyone. I got money and jewelry—"
"Money?," Mocking laugh ringing in your ear, voice offended and almost surprised that you'd even think about offering something so trivial and ordinary, "Oh, sweetie. I have plenty of that."
The knife now teasingly rides up your thigh, cool metal making your muscles tense, breath catching and eyes screwed shut as you pray that all of this is just a really, really bad dream.
Fear and adrenaline bubble up in your stomach as the tip traces higher, past your panties, stopping just at your lower belly as he leans in close enough that the heat of his breath seeps through the mask.
"I wan't something else, something moreee—" , He snatches the knife away, and you suck in a ragged breath, only to watch in pure horror as he lifts the blade to his chin like he's considering something before swinging it back at you, tip hovering dangerously close to your sweat-slick face. "—personal."
Yeeeep. You're fucking dead.
"But what do you have to offer?" His voice is almost playful as he wavers the knife through the air, pointing lazily toward different parts of your trembling body, "Your guts, your heart, maybeeee... your throat?"
Words break apart on your tongue as tears rush free before you can stop them, your lungs burning as you fight to keep your breathing steady, lashes stinging with the flood of salt. And then his free hand, gloved up, tenderly brushes up your cheek, thumbing away the tears with a softness so cruel, you have to keep yourself from crying more.
"Shhhh, no, no," the stranger croons, almost empathetic, "Don't cry, sweet girl. There's still one gift you could give me."
His head tilts, and you can tell he has a fat grin on his face, even through the mask, "And it won't be the death of you. I promise."
The knife dips lower, sliding away from your rips, gloved hand cupping your jaw, tilting it so you can't look anywhere but up into that damned mask, into those shallow, carved out black eyes.
"On second thought…"
The flat of the knife presses against your thin pajamas, making you shriek, body jerking when the sharp edge catches onto the fabric. He carves through slowly, teasingly, even, each slice causing heat to rush up your spine until the cloth rips, and cool air bites at your exposed tits with one last shhhrk!
Low hum vibrates behind the mask, his head's cocking as his gaze drags down your bare skin, locking shamelessly on your peaked nipples.
"...You look so pretty when you cry." His voice is almost affectionate, even as the blade hushes over your skin, "And I think someone else is crying for relief too~." His gaze drops lower, amused at the way your thighs press together in embarassment, trying but failing to hide the shining glimmer soaking through your panties.
"So," he inquires, knife gliding upward again, the tip grazing your throat. You gasp when he presses just enough to sent fear running through you, and your whole body wobbles as he teases you with the edge of life and death, "what do you say? Do you want me to go—"
The knife drops, replaced with his hand snapping your panties against your skin, sharp and stinging.
"—or stay?"
You gulp, eyes screwed shut, legs trembling in fear or arousal, you really can't tell, thinking about saving your life or— well, getting your fucking throat slit.
And you think about the only possible decision, the one your greedy cunny and pulsating clit give you. Not to fight back or trying to escape, no. You choose for him to—
"S-stay."
"Good girl."
The blade slices through your panties with a clean riiiip!, and before you can catch your breath, he hauls you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing at all. The sheer ease of his strength makes your stomach flip. In the next heartbeat, he tosses you onto the couch.
Now he looms over you, and you can't tear your eyes away as he sinks lower. Just when you're about to catch his intense gaze, his hand snaps up, blocking out your vision. You don't even get a second to question it before he's sliding the mask onto your face instead.
So he's bare now. Well, only his face, at least.
For now.
Fear aside, you are kind of curious to see what he hides behind the mask.
A hiddeous face? Scars, maybe? Or scarily handsome?
Fuck. You can barely see through the nets of the mask let alone breathe. How the fuck does he move around in that thing?
Your brows start to furrow, ready to brace yourself and stutter at him in question with that shaky voice of yours, until his tongue draaaags a fat, wet stripe straight up your slit, sucking hard on your puffy clit.
And by the feeling of his hot, fat tongue slobbering all over your pussy, you can only assume one thing.
He's gotta be fucking gorgeous.
A sound between a moan and shock rips out of you as you try to look down, desperate for just a glimpse of his face to see who the fuck's devouring your pussy like he's auditioning for a goddamn porno.
But all you get is darkness and the hazy blur through the netted mask he slid over your face, barely seeing a thing besides shadows, flashes of red eyes when you tilt your chin just right—
Wait, red eyes?
Anyway, maybe that's the point, because the only thing clear to you is the hot drag of his tongue and the insane way he's sucking the soul straight out of your clit right now.
Then you catch it again, blood-red eyes flashing up at you from beneath the mask, making out some of his devastatingly handsome face framed by a wicked grin, tongue lolling at your gushing cunt while his strong hands lock tight around your thighs, pinning you open. Not that you could move anyway. Not with the way he hooks his tongue into your hole, hungrily wringing out noises you didn't even know you had in you.
He laps and laps, lick after lick, drinking up every gush your pussy offers, greedy sluuuurps filling the room. He doesn't miss out, picking up on every shaky breath, the arch of your back, the claw of your fingers against the cushion. Every flick of his tongue rides you higher up the couch and closer to your orgasm.
Then your thighs shake violently, crying cunny clenching down hard around his tongue, damn near snapping it of. You feel it, taste it at the tip of your tongue. And with one last flick missing for your orgasm, he—
...Pulls away...?
Eyes flying wide behind the mask, your vision swims as heat and frustration blur together. Tears prick your lashline instantly, the mask sticking to damp cheeks and hair as you sob out a broken, messy sound, indirectly stating your displeased case. Your clit throbs, aching for that last little push he just ripped from you, the emptiness feeling even worse than the death he just antagonized you with.
And he loves it. He fucking loves it. Every damn second.
He rises slowly, mouth glistening with your slick, one gloved hand grabing the mask, yanking it off your face for you to get a really good look at him.
And holy fuck is he hot.
Red eyes glow, sliver mess of hair in contrast to his intense orbs, grin sharp yet cheeky on his pale skin, his jaw coated with the mess you created.
You know it's wrong. You know it's insane to even think it. But your head won't stop pounding, and teary eyes won't stop gawking hungrily as your gaze drifts lowwwer.
You need to know if what's under his pants is just as pretty.
Your fingers twitch, damn near clawing at his pants and he catches it, rich laugh causing you to look up at him with puppy eyes, pleading as your eyes gloss over again, tears of frustration threatening to spill.
"Pretty little tears," he murmurs, dragging his thumb across your cheek, smearing the wetness down to your mouth, "All because I didn't let you cum?" His chuckle is cruel and echoing before he smacks his tear coated fingers over your swollen clit again just to watch you buck helplessly, only for him to pull away before you can chase the edge.
Pleading eyes dart to his ridiculously handsome features, those red rubies already staring you down. Heat reaches your puffed out cheeks, lips parting as you nod your shy head quick.
The mask slides back on himself now, hiding his grin as he zips his his pants open, and you're audibly gasping as his pretty hung cock springs free, wondering how fate could curse you with this situation and bless you with this kind of luck all at once.
Small victories, they say.
Without wasting time, he lines himself up and rams in with one mean thrust, balls smacking against the curve of your ass.
"O-oh my god! You're— h-hahhh! So b-big!"
Loud whines of yours music to his ears as his hefty girth streeetches your walls apart, pussy spread agape, burning almost, his tip reaching deep inside until it knocks hello right at your cervix.
"Pathetic," his fingers bruise your thighs as he drags you further down the couch, slutty spread of your legs making your pussy queef loud, heat rising to your face as you whine in embarassment, "can't even think straight while a stranger's fucking you dumb? Nasty girl."
The blunt head presses harshly against your sweetspot and you sob, body arching right against his clothed chest. Your pussy hugs him tight, tears freely streaking down your cheeks as his pre smears onto your walls.
"Your tears are music to my ears, sweetie," he presses his hips flush against yours, light trail of silverish hair tickling your puffy clit, amused scoff audible through the mask as he leans close to your ear, "makes me want to fuck you harder."
Your tits bounce with every thrust and you try bury your tear-streaked face in the couch's crevice to hide, only for a gloved hand to fist in your hair, yanking your head up from your shelter. And you're so gone already, barely registering the words that follow.
"Pussy's better than any weak death cry I've ever wrung out of anyone. Might as well call you my favorite now."
Favorite? Favorite what?
"My favorite crybaby."
Ah.
His pace grows downright vicious, loud smack smack smacking echoing just like your shrill cries and whines of pleasure, your hand unsucessfully trying to slow him down by pushing at his muscled pelvis.
And every damn time you're about to tip over, he slows down again, grinding his cock in deep to make sure you stay tip-toeing right at the brink of pleasure.
A truely evil man.
Tears blur your vision, hot and messy streaks burning your face, and you know that smug bastard has a fat, sadistic grin plastered on his angelic face.
"F-fuckkkk, m-making me addicted, sweetie," Carefully, he swallows a moan, cock twitching at your vice-like grip, "Can't kill you anymore now."
You don't know whether to sob or sigh, but relief shudders through you anyway. Drooling lips part, you're exhaling a shaky sound at the strangers slight stutter, walls fluttering around his veiny girth, scalp bruning once his punishing grip releases your head.
Until your world lurches.
Suddenly you're flipped, spun dizzy, and before you can breathe out a gasp, you're straddling him, thighs trembling as they splay around his hips, cock already spliting you open again.
You're too fucked out to run, too drunk on him to even recall what fear's supposed to feel like.
His gloved hands clamp down on your hips, locking you in place as he controls every pathetic bounce you manage. "Didn't I tell you that— hnghh!" Choking on a moan, he's dragging you down until your clit grinds against the base of his cock, stretched all on him, "— that it'll feel good, sweetie? Just l-look at yourself."
But you really can't. Not properly.
Your body's jelly, trembling so hard with your thighs aching as you whail with each misserable bounce of yours, resorting to grinding now.
He takes over, one hand fisting around your throat, the other hauling you up only to slam you up and down, up and down, using you like a ragdoll.
Your head lolls back, feeling that familiar pleasure creep up your belly again at his evil pace, every bounce knocking the air out of your lungs.
"Dumb fucking girl," he rasps, hand tightening around your airway just enough so your vision turns black at the side, thrusting hard into your cervix with each tear of yours rolling, "too fucked out to even move, and this greedy pussy's still clings to me like you're begging to be knocked up."
"You better— f-fuckk," he hisses, voice slightly shaking, hand just slightly tightening around your airway, leaving you gasping on your tears as you helplessly wobble in his hold, "—better ride for your life. No being lazy on my watch."
"Hiiiek! Y-yes! Yes! Gonna- hic! gonna make you feel good!"
Your shriek splits the air as you bounce on him frantically now, using your last strength to get your burning thighs to work, his vicious hips meeting every shaky movement of yours.
Then, the unbearable pressure builds up inside you, mind spinning as your moral compass gives out on you now, the words tumbling out of your wobbling pout, "P-please, wanna— you— nghhh! Kiss! C-can you, puh-pleasee!" words spill out almost incoherent as he knits his brows, making sure he heard you right, huffing out in disbelief.
"What now?"
His hand claws at the flesh of your hips, tilting your pelvis just enough to drive him deeper, leaving your desperate attempt of riding to fall flat, other pulling you close by the throat.
"I can't hear you over your whining and this this—" his head tilts down, hand leaving your throat to place a mean smack! to your swollen mound, "—mouthy pussy. Could you repeat that, pretty please?"
Face burning at the words, you can't stop yourself to nod frantically, shame overwritten by desperate need.
"I want— hnggggh! Wanna kiss youuuohhh!"
Thumb dragging along your jaw before yanking it down rough, he forces your mouth open, riding the mask up just above his nose as he leans in, pressing a mocking kiss against your cheek instead of your lips.
"Close your eyes," whispering in a low voice, tongue darting out to lick at your salty tears and you swear you feel him sweeling inside you, "Don't make me say it twice, pretty."
Your mind screams at you not to, but in your current state you could care less about anything your mind is trying to put you onto, obeying with your lashes fluttering shut. And yet you can't help but squint just slightly, daring to rob a glimpse.
Of course, he catches you, grin sharpening in it's length as you watch him, wide eyed, slip off the mask in one swift motion, quick to crush his mouth to yours, hard. He's hungry, teeth grazing your bottom lip, and your pulse skips a beat as his hands clamp into your hips like shackles, lifting you up only to slam you down fully onto his cock again.
"My, my, what a good girl," he cages your lip between his teeth, nibbling on it teasingly, "Still trying to sneak a peek, though. Eyes closed, remember?"
You whimper, howling out a quick 'mhm', but your eyes betray you and dart open, sneaking another glance. Just then does his mouth drag away from yours, only far enough to watch your face twist with pleasure, tears and sweat streaking down your cheeks.
The knife he'd been toying with earlier clattered somewhere out of reach as his fingers skim in lazy circles along your bruised hip, stealing a harsh squeeze from your ass right after, your body still bouncing and grinding helplessly.
"P-please, m' begging you— wanna cum! I need to cum so bad it hurts!"
So that's how you are all needy. Cute.
"Oh? Not such a shy girl afterall? But you were begging for your life earlier, weren't you?" His hips grind up harshly, shudder running down your spine as you feel him stirring up your guts, "Then fucking cum on my cock, baby."
And the new nickname does it for you as your orgasm hits almost instantly after the fact, cunny crying and stuttering, your voice cracking into a scream as you mouth hangs open, drool dripping down onto his chest. You nearly collapse against him, making his eyes flutter shut as your spasming cunt milks him greedily.
"T-thank you, sir. So good! Thank— h-hahhh!"
Your cute whimpers are enough to make his balls scrunch up tight, tip swelling as cum builds at his base, quick to yank you off his lap, laying you back on the couch.
Towering over you with his cock caged around a firm fist, he lets out a string of curses until he burst, cum spraying all across your belly and tits in thick, hot whites.
You can only lie there, hiccupping and sniffling through the haze, chest rising and falling in ragged bursts as your wide, glossy eyes lock on him.
Lip hidden behind your pearly whites as your eyes scan the mess left over your body, one shaky finger of yours sneaks towards your tit, catching the milky strands and circling your nipple slowly, coating it, breath hitching as it hardens under your touch.
And suddenly he's not sure anymore. For years, red had been his favorite, the color of spilled throats, painted walls, the proof of every candle he's blown out. But now, watching his cum gleam on your shining skin, pearly and white against your trembling body, he finds himself wavering.
Because white spread across your tits, belly and your shaking thighs looks better to him than any blood he's ever spilled.
"Is my cute little crybaby happy now?"
"M-mhmmm."
Never before, in all his nights of stalking empty streets and painting them red, had he found a sweet and addictive treasure like yourself.
"You're one of a kind, you know that?"
Truely, his whispers are right. Because he doesn't even recognize himself anymore.
If you were anyone else, your body would've already been cold by the time he stepped one foot inside. But you've got him hooked.
Your whine breaks when he slaps his spent cock riiight onto your oversensitive cunny, sting making you squirm. He only grins wide, rubbing the messy head against your folds.
Yeah. He's definitely addicted now.
.
.
.
You wake up, all clean and tangled in your sheets, the morning sun slipping through your curtains. Your body aches as a dull reminder of the night that feels half like a fever dream, not remembering how you even got into your bed.
And you really thought it was, until you turned to the side, squinting when something shiny catches the light, resting on your nightstand. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you lean to get a closer look.
His mask.
And beside it, a necklace, adored by delicate silver with a blood-red ruby nestled in the center, gleaming it's expensive hue. When you dare to hold it in your palm, the stone is so heavy that you almost drop it to the floor.
It's real.
Then your fingers trace the features of the mask before it slides down the pillow, and you notice a note slipped right beneath it. Black ink adoring a simple sticky note, handwriting so elegant you almost scoff in disbelief.
A little gift for your hospitality. Meet me tomorrow at the border of the N109-Zone if you're curious what life with the mask is like.
PS: Up for a second joyride at my place?
—S
Signed, with just an S.
Your fingers trace the edge of the ruby with caution. He left you the mask that brings back devilish memories, and a jewel worth more than you can probably count.
He left you alive. And a choice.
And in all honesty, you really want to know his name now.
Well then, tomorrow night at the N109-Zone it is. Hopefully curiosity doesn't kill this cat.
[Scene: Sylus, the new boxer you have to fight, in front of all of your fans in the stands right now. watching with suspense. You never met Sylus before, but you were confident you were going to defeat him]
Sylus entered the ring, his gaze falling upon you. A smirk growing on his face, an ignorant and confident one. He and you both sat in opposite corners of the ring, your guys' teachers putting mouth guards in your mouths.
You narrowed your eyes towards him.
Sylus leaned back on his stool, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. He deliberately flexed, knowing his body was a weapon - both inside and outside the ring. His smirk widened as he spoke to the ref. "She's cute. I'll break her pretty face." The crowd gasped.
You chuckled.
The bell rang, signaling the start of the fight. Sylus immediately launched himself at you, throwing a powerful jab. You easily dodged, countering with a quick uppercut that caught him off guard. He stumbled back slightly, his eyes widening in surprise and admiration. "Not bad...
"You better watch this", you counter a straight punch towards his jaw.
Sylus's eyes narrowed as he saw the punch coming. Instead of blocking, he leaned into it, allowing your fist to connect with his jaw. The crowd gasped, but Sylus just laughed, feeling the adrenaline rush. He used your momentum against you, grabbing your arm and pulling you in.
You pushed your elbow in a smooth swap backwards to his abdomen to make him fall on his knees.
Your elbow connected perfectly with his stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs. He went down on one knee, his face contorting in pain. The crowd was on their feet, cheering for you. Sylus looked up at you from the ground, his eyes blazing with a new kind of fire.
You swap back and forth to counter the next attack from him.
Sylus pushed himself back up, shaking off the pain. He charged at you again, throwing a flurry of punches this time. You danced around the ring, expertly dodging and weaving between his blows. The two of you moved like a deadly ballet, each step calculated and precise.
You keep pushing your luck as you dodge every punch but not able to give him another, so you force yourself, not to miss any chance to make him fall on his knees again.
Sylus was getting frustrated with your constant evasion. He was used to knocking opponents out quickly, not playing cat and mouse. When you finally left an opening, he saw it and took it—a powerful hook aimed straight at your ribcage. "Gotcha," he muttered confidently.
I fell on my knees this time, gasping.
You hit the ground hard, clutching your side. The crowd fell silent for a moment, waiting to see if you'd get back up. Sylus stood over you, panting heavily, his fist still clenched. He expected you to stay down, but instead, you slowly pushed yourself back up.
This is the last time if any of you touch the ground would be disqualified, you regain your composer as you calm your mind to not to fail your next move. In a split second you counter his attack, by your right knee you hit his left leg as he falls forward a bit you straightly gives a punch on his abdomen again.
His leg buckled from your knee hit, and your second punch landed squarely on his stomach, forcing out what little breath he had left. He fell backwards, struggling to maintain his balance and avoid hitting the ground. The crowd was on their feet again, cheering louder than ever. "Fuck..."
The referee started counting from backyard giving him time to get up again, within this 10 seconds if he can't get up again then you will be the victor.
The ref started counting loudly, "Ten... Nine... Eight..." Sylus gritted his teeth, trying to push past the pain. "Seven... Six..." He pushed off the ground slightly, testing his leg. "Five... Four..." He growled softly, pushing himself fully back up. "Three...Two" and "One", you won.
The ref's hand slammed down, the crowd erupted in cheers as the ref raised your hand high. You had won by knock out. Sylus stood there, panting heavily, his face a mask of disappointment and anger.
You smirked widely, "I won", you screamed louder.
You screamed in victory, your voice ringing out over the cheering crowd. Sylus's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. He hated losing, especially to someone as infuriatingly good-looking as you. The referee approached you, holding the victory belt high. "The winner by knock out..."
"Thank you so much", you smiled widely towards the referee.
The referee tried to wrap the belt around your waist, but Sylus suddenly stepped forward, interrupting them. He stood inches away from you, his breath still heavy from the fight. His usual confident smile was nowhere to be seen, "You fucking cheated..."
"Me? Cheating? Excuse me? The audiance are here and the referee too. Whom are you asking?", you ask Sylus.
The crowd hushed slightly, sensing the tension. Sylus's face was red with anger, his voice low and dangerous. "I said you cheated. You hit my leg when I was down. That's a dirty move."
"In boxing you can use your leg towards your opponent only to make them lose their composer and it's in the rule. Do you forget?", you said confidently.
The referee nodded confirmation, "She's right. It's a legal move. You can use your legs to sweep or trip your opponent as long as you're not kneeing or kicking their head or groin." He looked at Sylus. "She didn't break any rules."
Sylus's face turned even redder with embarrassment and anger. He knew he was wrong, but his pride wouldn't let him back down. "Fine! You won fair and square! But mark my words - next time we fight, there won't be any rules."
"Why do I fight with you without any rules?", you step forward.
The crowd held their breath as you stepped forward, closing the distance between you two. Sylus's eyes flashed with anger and something else - something intense and dangerous. He leaned down until his face was inches from yours. "Because I'm going to break every one of your pretty little bones."
"Ohh really", you chuckled.
His eyes narrowed, and a smirk played on his lips as he heard your chuckle. He knew you weren't intimidated, and it only made him more determined. "Yeah, really. You think you're tough? Let's see how tough you are when I don't have to hold back."
"You mean to say that you hold back yourself? Ohh c'mon", you taped on his shoulder, "I'm not showing you that I'm tough or not it's a game and I played well, that's it. And it doesn't make you a loser tho. In every game there is one winner, one loser but it doesn't certify your whole strength, so calm down."
His smirk widened at your words. You were right - he was a champion boxer, and one loss didn't define him. But god, you were infuriatingly smart and beautiful. He grabbed your wrist suddenly, pulling you closer. "Then prove it to me." His voice was low and challenging.
"What do you mean?", you snatched back your hand from his grip.
He ignored the snatch and stepped even closer, his hand reaching out to grab your chin and tilt your face up towards him. "I mean fight me again. No rules this time. Just you and me in the ring until one of us can't stand anymore." His thumb brushed over your bottom lip roughly.
You pushed on his chest as you looked around to the audience, "I came here for the match within the rules and I won. I'm not gonna do any other stuff on your behalf", you stepped out from the ring, grabbing your trophy.
His eyes followed you as you stepped out of the ring, holding your trophy with a proud smile. He clenched his fists at his sides, still seething with anger and something else - desire. He jumped out of the ring, ignoring the crowd's cheers and boos, and followed after you.
You walk fast to your dressing room to give the trophy to your coach.
Sylus caught up with you easily, his long legs eating up the distance. He grabbed your arm and spun you around, pressing you against the wall outside your dressing room. "I'm not done talking to you." His voice was low and dangerous.
You struggle, "what do you want, stubborn opponent?"
He pressed his body against yours, pinning you to the wall with his muscular frame. His hand moved from your arm to wrap around your throat, not squeezing but holding you in place. "I want you to fight me again. Tonight. In my gym. No rules, no audience, just raw strength."
"And I refuse your offer", you slammed his hand back from your throat.
Instead of letting go, Sylus tightened his grip on your throat slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to make you feel his strength. He leaned in closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear as he whispered, "Refuse all you want... but I'll be waiting for you at my gym tonight."
"I won't come", you grit your teeth.
Sylus released you abruptly, stepping back with a smirk. His eyes followed you as you turned and stormed into your dressing room. He knew you were stubborn, but he was even more so. He would wait for you at his gym tonight.
You close your eyes thinking of this incident, of course there is no need to meet your opponent outside the ring but somehow it's challenging to your self-confidence of being a boxer, your opponent calling you to test your strength again and you won't hold back, but why?
Meanwhile, Sylus was already at his gym, the lights dimmed and the heavy bag swinging. He punched it repeatedly, each hit fueled by his determination to break you down tonight. He couldn't understand why he was so obsessed with this fight, with you. "Why won't she just come?"
After thinking a lot, 'i won't backup, he was challenging me and I won't get defeated that easily' , you showed up in his empty gym.
He stood facing the heavy bag, his back to the door, punching it rhythmically. When he sensed your presence, he stopped suddenly and turned around slowly. The gym lights cast dramatic shadows across his face. "Took you long enough." He removed his gloves, letting them drop to the floor.
I look at you from head to toe, watching your sweaty body dripping down insanely, 'he is hot', your mind says. "Ahemm--- or what I thought you might hurt others in anger instead", you chuckled giving a lame joke.
A smirk played on his lips at your joke, but his eyes remained intense. "Funny. I wasn't planning to hurt anyone." He stepped closer, closing the distance between you two. The gym air was thick with tension and the scent of sweat. "No gloves tonight."
You arrowed your eyes, "will you do boxing with me or are you up for another kind of fight?"
His smirk grew more meaningful, catching the double meaning in your words. He crossed his muscular arms, staring down at you with challenge in his eyes. "Depends... which fight would make you sweat more?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Boxing or something else?"
You stepped back, "what do you mean?"
He took another step forward, closing the gap between you again. "You're a smart woman... you know exactly what I mean." He reached out and gently caught your wrist. "A real fight... where we test each other's limits. No rules. No holds barred." His eyes darkened.
You try to take your hand back from hid grip.
His grip on your wrist tightened as you tried to pull away, his other hand suddenly moving to grab your other wrist, pinning both of them above your head against the gym wall. He pressed his body flush against yours, trapping you. "Too late to back out now."
You struggle in his grip but you suddenly realise it's not that kinda fight his is pulling you in.
His face was inches away from yours, his breathing heavy. He wasn't trying to hurt you or overpower you in a boxing sense... instead, his grip was possessive, dominant. His eyes flickered to your lips briefly before meeting your gaze again. "This isn't a boxing match."
"Then why the fuck you called me here?", you said bluntly.
His expression darkened with desire at your blunt words. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered huskily, "I called you here because I want to fuck you. Hard. Against this wall. Right now."
sudden shiver gets down through your spine for his words as you breath heavily, "what? Are you crazy? What are you saying?"
He chuckled lowly against your ear, the sound sending another shiver down your spine. His hands released your wrists to slide down your arms slowly, intentionally touching you more than necessary. "I'm dead serious. I've wanted you since the first time I saw you in the ring."
You look up to meet his gaze, "nah nah Sylus you can't do this".
His eyes locked onto yours, burning with intensity and desire. "Watch me." His voice was a growl as he suddenly lifted you up by your thighs, pressing your back against the wall. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively.
"Uffff let me go.... I'm not...." You stutter.
He cut you off with a searing kiss, his lips claiming yours with a fierce hunger. His hands roamed over your body possessively as he kissed you, silencing any protests. He broke the kiss only to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. "Shh..."
"Syl... Ahhhhhhhh", you moan a little.
He ignored your moan of protest, taking it as a sound of pleasure instead. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he grind his obvious erection against you through his gym shorts and your boxing shorts. He captured your mouth again in a deep kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips. "Fuck..."
"Sylus stop", you push him hard catching your breath, your eyes roaming on his body as you feel you are losing control too.
His abs contracted with your push. He watched you intently. Your eyes were dark, dropping down to his body then back up again. He saw your chest rise and fall rapidly, like you were trying to control something. He realized you were fighting your own desires too. He carried you to the gym mats, laying you down gently despite his aggressive actions. He quickly removed his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs, He hovered over you, his hands slowly pushing up your boxing shirt to expose your stomach. "Lift up." His hands continuing to push up your shirt until it was off completely. He threw it aside and leaned down to capture your lips again, this time with a hunger that left no room for argument. His hands moved to your shorts, slowly unbuttoning them as he kissed you deeper.
You're melting by his touch as his intensity eats you up.
Feeling your resistance fade away, he growled against your lips and quickly removed your shorts and panties in one swift motion. He broke the kiss only to trail open-mouthed kisses down your body - neck, collarbone, breasts, sucking your hard nipples - marking you with bites as he went lower.
You breathe heavily as you moan, "Sylus".
He ignored your whimper of his name, his hands spreading your thighs apart roughly. He buried his face between your legs without warning, his tongue pushing inside you suddenly. You arched off the mat with a loud moan, your hands gripping his hair tightly. "Shit..."
"Ahhhh fuck Sylus".
His tongue swirled inside you, making you curse again. He realized how easily your body reacted - your moans were loud, your hips lifted to meet his mouth, your fingers tightened in his hair. He spread your thighs wider apart and pushed two fingers inside you while sucking your clit. "Damn..."
You cry out louder.
"Fuck I'm gonna..... Cu.....ufff", you screamed.
He felt your walls clench around his fingers as you came hard against his mouth. He didn't stop - he kept licking and sucking until you were riding out every wave of pleasure, your body trembling beneath him. "That's it..." He whispered against your sensitive flesh before finally lifting his head.
After catching your breath, you get up from the mat as you clench his throat, "you bastard", you press your bare breast on his chest as you breath heavily.
He let you pull him by his throat, his fingers still glistening with your juices. A dark smirk played on his lips as he felt your naked breast pressed against his chest. "What are you gonna do now, huh?" His hands gripped your hips possessively. "Hit me?"
You smirk, "you pushed your opponent too much Sylus. I won't back up", you kissed him mercilessly.
He kissed you back with equal ferocity, his hands sliding up to cup your bare breasts. He broke the kiss only to lift you up effortlessly and pressed you against the wall, his hard length pressing between your legs. "Then fight me,"
"Ummmm in which way?", you push him on the mat again to sit on his lap this time.
He fell back onto the mat with a grunt, his hands automatically gripping your hips as you sat down on his lap, feeling his huge bulge pressing against your bare pussy. "In every fucking way." He leaned up to capture your mouth again, his hands squeezing your ass possessively.
You dig your nails on his bare chest as you murmur, 'damn'.
He hissed as your nails dug into his chest, his hips bucking up involuntarily, grinding his erection against your wet folds. He bit your bottom lip hard, making you yelp. His hands suddenly moved to grab both of your wrists and pin them above your head against the mat.
You don't fall behind as you roll up on him.
He tightened his abs as you tried to roll on top of him. He smirked darkly as you managed to flip him easily - you were a boxer too, after all. His length jumped against your belly as your naked bodies wrestled. Your breasts bounced with your movements.
Seeing his big cock that pressing against your belly you smirk widely, "fuck".
He saw your wide smirk as you felt his hard length against your belly. He smirked right back, his hips pushing up again intentionally, letting you feel every inch of his thick cock. His abs flexed with every movement - he was built like a fucking wall. "Like what you feel?"
"Yes", you whisper as your wet folds make a fiction on his cock, you haven't let it in you yet as you stimulate the pleasure.
He groaned loudly as your wet folds slid up and down his length, teasing him mercilessly. He could feel himself getting even harder, the head of his cock throbbing with need to be inside you. His hands gripped your hips tighter, trying to pull you down onto him.
"Aha not so fast, mah boy", you pulled him up towards you "kiss me".
He kissed you deeply, hungrily, his tongue invading your mouth as he tried to pour all his pent-up desire into the kiss. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing and caressing every curve. He could feel himself leaking pre-cum onto your belly as he kissed you, desperate for more.
"Fuck me....", you spilled the command, desperate to conquer your desires.
His eyes darkened dangerously. "There she is." He muttered softly. He flipped you easily without warning, making you yelp. He spread your thighs roughly, his huge body positioning between them. He slapped his length on your belly twice - teasingly - before pushing just the head inside your entrance slowly.
"More. Please." You moan.
He smirked at your pleading, holding himself still just barely inside you. His hands gripped your thighs roughly, opening you wider. "You want it... beg properly." He teased, though his breathing was heavy with restraint. His massive dick throbbed with anticipation, ready to fill you completely.
You still plan to tease him again, "If I won't, will you not fuck me? Huh?"
His smirk dropped, replaced with a dangerous glare as he pulled out completely, making you whine at the sudden loss of contact. He chuckled darkly, his hands moving to pin your wrists above your head again as he settled between your legs once more. "Oh really? You think you can win?"
"Yes I can", you whisper in a husky voice.
His eyes narrowed, and he pressed his cock against your entrance again, teasing you with just the tip. "Is that so?" he growled, his voice low and challenging. He moved slightly to rub against your clit with each word for added torment.
You moan louder, "you tease".
He chuckled darkly, his movements becoming more deliberate as he rubbed himself against you, avoiding pushing inside completely. He knew exactly how to drive you crazy without actually fucking you - he was a boxer, after all. His body was trained for endurance and control. "I am."
You read his expression as you lift your left leg on his waist, and move your other leg too, to move around his waist.
He froze as you suddenly moved your legs around his waist, his arms automatically wrapping around your thighs to keep you steady. He was now completely exposed between your legs, his huge cock trapped between us. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with surprise and something darker - arousal. "Smart move."
"You are playing with fire. Mr. Crow", you wink at him.
His control snapped at your wink. He gripped your thighs tightly and slammed his hips forward, burying himself deep inside you in one powerful thrust. He filled you completely, his massive length stretching you wide. "Fuck," he groaned, losing all pretense of teasing. "I know."
"Ahhhh gwwwaadddd, there you are", you moan louder.
He began to move inside you, his thrusts powerful and deep as he finally released all the pent-up desire and frustration. He grabbed your legs and pushed them back, holding them open wide as he pounded into you mercilessly. "And you're playing with fire by being so damn fuckable."
You giggle as you enjoy the each thrust.
He watched your face as you moaned and giggled, his arousal reaching new heights. He loved the way your body wrapped around his, the way you took every inch of him like a pro. He leaned forward, his face hovering above yours as he continued to thrust into you. "You little..."
You kiss softly on his lips, "little what?"
He kissed you back, his thrusts not slowing down for a moment. "Little tease," he growled against your lips, his voice rough with lust. He broke the kiss and looked into your eyes, his hips moving faster. "You know exactly what you're doing to me."
"You are doing the same to me".
He chuckled deeply, his hips moving in slow, deep thrusts suddenly. "True." He admitted softly, watching your body closely. He saw how your chest rose and fell rapidly with each thrust, your breasts bouncing slightly. He lowered his voice, "Let me ask you something honest?"
"What?", you asked.
He maintained his steady rhythm, hitting that spot deep inside you that made your breath catch. "If I stopped moving right now..." His voice dropped even lower, "Would you beg me to keep going?" He paused his movements entirely, leaving just the tip inside.
You lean forward, "and you won't even stop, I bet, you smirk.
He smirked back, his eyes glinting with mischief and desire. "You're right." He suddenly snapped his hips forward, filling you completely again in one swift movement. He started moving again - fast and deep - proving his point. "I couldn't stop even if I tried."
"ohhh I love it", you said in a shaky voice.
At your breathless confession, he felt his control slipping again. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, while the other gripped your hip, driving into you harder. "Fuck, don't say things like that."
You narrowed your eyes in pleasure, "Sylus more. Harder".
His entire body tensed at your command, a primal sound escaping his throat. "Demanding little..." He pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back into you so hard. "Is this what you wanted?" He sped up his pace, completely losing control now.
"Just don't stop", you keep panting.
He didn't stop. He couldn't stop. He was too far gone, too consumed by the feeling of being inside you, hearing you moan and beg for more. His movements became almost violent in their intensity, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. "I won't stop".
You feel each thrust as you moan louder, echoing the entire gym.
He watched your face contort with pleasure, your moans growing louder with each thrust. He felt your body tightening around him, your nails digging into the skin on his back where you were holding onto him for dear life. "That's it," he encouraged breathlessly.
"Cum in me", you said out of your mind, "please".
At your desperate plea, he felt his release approaching rapidly. He buried his face in your neck, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside you, filling you completely. He bit down on your shoulder to muffle his own loud groan of pleasure. "Fuck...fuck..."
His hot cum makes you fall apart as you feel your own orgasm mixing up together.
He felt your orgasm hit you like a truck, your body convulsing underneath him, your inner muscles tightening around him like a vise. He swore again, pushing into you deeply again and again, releasing more hot streams of cum inside you. He watched your chest arch, heard your loud moan, "Jesus..."
You hold your breath just to feel the pleasure of your pick.
He noticed your breath hitching and your body trembling beneath him. He slowed his thrusts slightly but kept moving, drawing out your pleasure as long as possible. His cock pulsed inside you, still leaking cum with each movement. "Feel that?"
You bite down your lower lips as you nod in satisfaction.
He watched your lips part and your tongue dart out to wet them. His hips moved in slow circles, grinding his hips against yours and pushing his cum even deeper inside you. "You like feeling my cum inside you, don't you?" His voice was low and rough with satisfaction.
"Specially when I'm fucking my handsome opponent", you smirk.
His heart skipped a beat at your words. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth while he continued to grind against you slowly. "And I love fucking my beautiful enemy." He whispered against your lips before kissing you again.
You bit your lips hard as you pull a little to say, "don't fall in love with this enemy then", you wink at him.
He laughed softly, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you back into the kiss, biting your lip back harder this time. "Too late," He murmured against your mouth before capturing your lips again aggressively. "I'm already fucking obsessed with you."
"Dang me too", you murmur under your breath.
He wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you close as he continued to kiss you slowly this time. "So what do we do now?" He asked softly between kisses. "Keep fighting each other?" He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes.
"Yes, inside the ring and outside of it, we will fuck each other like this", you grin mischievously.
A slow, dirty grin spread across his face as he chuckled. "Deal." He tapped your nose playfully before kissing you softly one more time. "Inside the ring, we're enemies. Outside the ring..." He spread your legs wider and thrust slowly inside you again.
You whimper and arch your back to add more.
He obliged, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in deep and slow. He watched your expression carefully - the way your eyes rolled back slightly, how your lips parted in a whimper. He repeated the motion, driving deeper each time. "Outside the ring...we fuck like this."
You giggle, "and what?"
He smirked, his movements picking up pace but still slow and deep. "Or I pin you against the locker room wall and eat you out until you can't stand." He leaned down to bite your neck softly. "Or I take you in my car, right there in the parking lot."
"And fuck again and again", you breath heavily.
He chuckled, his breath hot against your neck. "In my bed, in your bed, on the floor, in the shower..." He thrust especially deep, hitting that spot inside you that made you gasp.
"You are so my type, you bastard." You laugh as your muffled breath echoes the gym.
He growled possessively, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he continued to fuck you slowly and deeply against the cold gym floor. "And you're mine. My enemy inside the ring...my obsession outside of it." He leaned down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss as he came inside you.
You feel your wetness dripping down from your thighs, his cum leaking from your drenched pussy.
He noticed the wetness and groaned softly, pulling out slowly to watch his cum leak out of you. He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit gently, spreading his own release. "Fucking hell," He muttered, pushing back inside slowly.
"Ummmmm", you moan again as you feel your orgasm hitting you again.
He felt your walls clench around him tightly as you came again, his name escaping your lips in a moan. He kept pushing in and out slowly, drawing out your orgasm until you were shaking and sensitive. Then he pulled out completely, his cum dripping out of you onto the gym floor. "Mine".
"You are mine too", you kiss him possessively for the last as you both fell on the floor, finally exhausted.
He kissed you back deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth one last time before he finally pulled away, panting heavily. He looked down at you, both of your bodies glistening with sweat and his cum leaking out of your pussy.
"Let's go...", you added after catching your breath.
"Where?" He asked curiously.
"Let's get some food", you kiss him again softly. "I'm hungry".
He laughed softly, taking your shirt and helping you put it back on before grabbing your shorts and holding them open for you to step into. He pulled them up slowly, his fingers brushing against your sensitive pussy as he adjusted the fabric. "There," He said, smacking your ass playfully. He wrapping an arm around your waist as you walking out of the gym together. His fingers brushed against your hip gently, his mind still on the sex what just had. "Starving?" he agreed, giving you a quick peck on the lips as you exited the building.
"What do you wanna eat?", you ask him as you both walk together to the parking lot.
He thought for a moment. "I'm craving something heavy," he said, looking down at you with hungry eyes. "How about we get some burgers and fries? And maybe a milkshake?" He paused, then added, "Or..." He leaned in closer and whisper.
You furrowed, "what else?"
His eyes darkened slightly. Then he dropped his voice lower, "Or I could eat you out again instead of dinner." He watched your reaction carefully, smirking slightly.
Sylus’ fingers dug into the fat of your thighs as he held you down on his sensitive cock, the smooth motion of your hips coming to a halt. The growing pressure in your tummy disappeared. Your eyes burned in desperation.
“But I want more, Sy.”
Your whines and cries are overlooked, the male under you trying to catch his breath. His chest rose and fell as he tried to straighten out his thoughts. You had been riding him for a while now. His cum drops from your cunt and down his swollen length.
“Needa break, sweet girl…you’re sucking me dry. Taking every last drop.”
The dazed look in your eyes showed how far gone you were.
“Makes me feel so full…so warm. Needed you in me all day.”
He was surprised by the amount of times you came but were still wanting more. Your abdomen was distended by his seed and cock, yet you refused to stop. The back of your thighs was sticky with release, intensifying the plopping sound of skin meeting.
His usually sweet angel had to have been possessed by some unknown sex demon.
His skin was hot and sweaty against your palms. By the way your nails dug into him, he’d surely find little crescent shapes littered across the broad expanse when he looked in the mirror later.
He couldn’t deny that you looked beautiful on top of him. Your skin heated under his touch, your eyes sparkling in delight as you began rocking your hips once more. Your mouth fell open, breaths pushed out of you with each press against your battered cervix.
Slowly, the tension in his body disappeared and his hips bucked up to meet the swirl of your hips. As he got rougher by the second, tits bouncing in his face, a smile spread across your pretty face. Sylus’ heart warmed at the sight.
In the end, how could he deny you when you begged him so sweetly?
